Godsfall
by Shurpuff
Summary: Momonga left. The denizens of Nazarick grew mad with despair, and spread death and desolation into the New World. Twenty years later, humanity is on the verge of extinction. Into this hopeless situation, six heroes will rise. They are the Supreme Beings, players brought here from Yggdrasil Mk.2. What will Momonga and his friends see, in this twisted world remade by their children?
1. Yggdrasil Mark 2

Five years ago.

Players of the longtime DMMO "Yggdrasil" bid farewell as the game shuts down for good. Among them is faithful leader Suzuki Satoru, who plays the character "Momonga" of the Guild [Ainz Ooal Gown].

He is among one of the last to leave the game, staying logged in even to the last minute.

When the clock struck twelve, a miracle happened in a certain place and to certain denizens of a tomb-but that is another story.

In "this" world, Suzuki Satoru woke up, his cheeks wet with tears. Before long, he's taken hold of himself and slept, to face a new day. Reality calls for Suzuki Satoru, even if that reality is as painful as eating glass.

In "that" world, certain events come to pass. Horrible things, wonderful things, depending on the point of view.

Back to this world, Suzuki's grief and loneliness did not last long. For it was announced that Yggdrasil's developers had been secretly working on "Yggdrasil Mk. 2", a reboot of the years-old game, using a brand new engine, and with enhanced game features. They also used a more powerful VR engine from a certain famous company.

Naturally, Suzuki was ecstatic. He entered the game when it launched, and was instantly hooked. Not only was the graphics more realistic, the game engine was also enhanced. The battle system underwent balance changes, though the "shitty devs" never changed their mind about the overpowered World Items.

He was also glad to see that some of his old guildmates, lured by the new game, had also signed up. They even used their old usernames. Together, they renewed [Ainz Ooal Gown], and quickly became one of the top PK guilds in the game. They were also one of the few legendary guilds with a roster of all heteromorphic races, which even in the reboot were discriminated against.

Four years later.

Six players arrive on a grassy hill, carried by [Gate]. One of the robed figures began casting [Widen: Glamour Area] and [Widen: Mass Invisibility II], hiding their forms from sight of other players.

On second glance, these were a strange group of players. While there was an upright humanoid figure in silver plate, its comrades were all different shapes. There were two wobbling figures of living slime, a slouching figure with the head of a goat, a beak-headed player with several wings, and a robed figure with the head of a human skull.

"Scanning complete," announced the goat-head.

"No other undead in range," said the skeleton player.

"How about you, Peroroncino-san?" asked the silver warrior. "See anything?"

The avian player cancelled [Eagle Eye] and nodded his head. "I can see the other groups on the far side. There are... something like five raid groups down there waiting."

The slime whistled. "And to think we came here early..." If one listened closely, it seemed like an elementary schoolgirl was speaking, though the truth was far different. Bukubukuchagama was no longer specced as a specialized tank-instead she was a magic Slime. In her own words, she was going to be a magical slime-girl, who could also cast support magic.

"No doubt there'll be some more incoming before the event starts," said the goat-head, whose full username was Ullbert Alain Odle. He was one of the guild's most powerful spellcasters, having an optimized build that annihilated enemies at the start of combat.

"It is a very important event after all," said one of the slimes. His name was Herohero, and he was one of the few guildmembers who'd changed greatly in the transition to the reboot. Where before he was a monk-type who specialized in melting equipment for an easy PK, now he had levels in ranger and assassin, which made him a good scout-type seeker.

The skeleton, who was Momonga, put his skeletal hands to his face. He cast the [Message] spell, which allowed him to communicate with other friendly players even at a great distabce. "Punitto Moe-san, we've arrived, how are things on your end?"

"We're alright here," replied Punitto Moe. "We're still waiting on Warrior Takemikazuchi's and Ancient One's groups."

"Then, do we have any changes in strategy?" asked Momonga.

"It's too early for that," said Punitto Moe. "For the time being, let's still continue with [Plan A]."

"Ragnarok Cycles" were major events in the rebooted Yggdrasil. Emulating that mythical story about the fall of the Gods, this event pitted players against overwhelmingly high-level World-Class monsters, whose powers required a multitude of players to defeat. At the end, there was a chance for the data crystal left behind to contain a World Item. That, along with the prestige of defeating the monster, made these a must-kill for most players in Yggdrasil.

Unfortunately, only one data crystal could be acquired, and it would go to the guild whose member made the killing blow. As such, the battle against the high-level monster also usually involved epic PvP contests, often pitting a multitude of guilds in a brutal free-for-all. This was intended by the "shitty devs", because one aspect to the rebooted Yggdrasil was the focus on more "epic" PvP, with the intention of mass armies of players doing battle instead of just 1 on 1 or small group affairs.

Ainz Ooal Gown had already defeated one such monster in a past Ragnarok Cycle. This was the event that boosted them to the Top 4th World Ranked guilds of the new Yggdrasil. The World Item was given to a reluctant Momonga, who was then turned into one of Yggdrasil's "deities".

The Deity system involved the ascension of players to the ranks of the Gods. In order to keep up with increasing player power levels, a rank of "God" was placed above, granting these players World Item-like powers. For instance, the new [God of Thunder] acquired [Mjolnir] and other World items just from becoming a god. These items were exclusive to the god: if a player killed the god for example, the title and items would pass to the winner.

Momonga had become [God of Unlife], a fitting aspect for his dream build. But far from giving him the satisfaction of becoming the pinnacle in the game, he was instead subjected to ungodly amounts of stress. Everywhere he went he had to keep his guard up, looking out for any sudden ambushes. Many were the players who wanted to take the title of god without having to go through a Ragnarok Cycle. The title [God of Magic] for example, had already passed through three guilds.

Were it not for his supportive guildmates, he would have crumbled from the pressure and quit the game. But [Ainz Ooal Gown] looked after its people. Besides, the guildmembers also benefitted from having a member as a god. Each of them were given an additional equipment slot [Soul], had access to basic Runes without even speccing into the relevant class, and had access to the god's personal [Domain] which functioned as a guildbase and a safe area. In honor of their old home, Momonga named the Domain [Nazarick].

Still, Momonga's "Ascension" did not mean they couldn't try for another Deity. The guild had had a vote, and Bukubukuchagama-san was chosen to be the next God, if they won this Ragnarok Cycle. Of course, they all relied on their present God, Momonga, to tip the scales in their favor.

"[Sense Divine]", Momonga muttered. A second later, he sighed, his voice getting slightly depressed, "Aww... they're here."

"Who is it?" asked the silver paladin, Touch Me. One of Momonga's closest friends, he was something of a figure everyone looked up to in Ainz Ooal Gown, being their old Leader before forming the guild. As in the old game, Touch Me handily achieved World Champion level status.

"[God of Interventions], [God of Magic], and [God of Fire]." With each name he uttered, Momonga's shoulders steadily drooped down.

"It's going to be an interesting bloodbath," said Ulbert. In the guild, he was among the bloodthirstiest.

"It's going to be alright, Momonga-san," said Herohero. "With you as Healer and with Punitto Moe-san's strategy, I think we can win this!"

A standard party in Yggdrasil was usually made up of a Tank, Seeker, two Attackers, a Healer and a Wildcard. Momonga, before becoming God had been a Wildcard, but his new class [God of Unlife] had given him unique healing abilities. That was why Bukubukuchagama was now a Wildcard, being able to take hits decently (though not as good as her previous build), cast attack and support magic, and even heal.

Momonga's present party grouping included the fearsome Touch Me, who could function as both a Tank and Attacker. Technically, the group now had three Attackers because of him. Together with Momonga the God, Ulbert, the guild's strongest magic caster and Peroroncino, the long-ranged specialist, this combined to form a group geared for sheer destructive power. This group composition had been chosen by Punitto Moe-san to maximize their strategic goals.

Herohero was put here because of his new Soul equipment [Recycle Stomach] which had the power equal to a World item, and could only be used by him. As long as he was in the party that dealt a deathblow to a monster, he had a chance to turn the normally single data crystal drop into two. Potentially gaining the guild two Deities. Such a power only normally useful for "farming" important components in the overworld was now critical in this battle.

Originally, Peroroncino's real life sister Bukubukuchagama was not to be in the group. But there was uncertainty of the mechanics revolving around the World Monster. Certain unconfirmed reports from other guilds said that the data crystal could only be used by the party that did the killing blow. Other players claimed this was not so, and that it was free to use for anyone in the victorious guild. Because the battle that gave Momonga his crystal had him in the deathblow party, there arose some doubts among [Ainz Ooal Gown]. In the end, Bukubukuchagama was placed in the group for insurance.

The Ragnarok Cycle event was set to start at midnight. Today was one hour before the fact, so there was plenty of time for the situation to change. The party was always on the lookout for players teleporting close to their position. Bukubukuchagama's ability [Soothing Gel] kept their mana up while the casters kept using detection spells.

Soon, their missing guildmates teleported into their positions around the battlefield, and the final standby commands were broadcast. Momonga and several other guild members gave a pep talk to boost their spirits. Momonga of course, didn't mention the piercing feeling in his gut, born from sheer anxiety.

In the meantime, about a dozen more guilds showed up. Down on the plains below, they saw hints of an ongoing battle.

"Wow. They're really fighting," Momonga remarked. He referred to two of the Gods he sensed, who were now raining havoc on their respective enemies down below.

"But it looks like Punitto Moe-san's tactics will actually work," said Peroroncino.

"Hah! The fools fight amongst themselves," Ulbert announced, switching to a role-play stance. Touch Me looked at his guildmate, before looking away and shaking his head.

"[Message] from Punitto Moe-san," Momonga announced. "He says we're to start the disguising now."

The other party members mumbled "Understood," opening their inventory and accessing the item needed for their strategy.

"Eugh! Even if it's just pixels, just using it feels wrong," complained Bukubukuchagama.

[Loki's Tongue] was a divine-class item generally sold to Gods and their guildmates. It allowed one to change outer appearance to something different. A slime, for example, could appear to be an angel. However, no innate abilities would be changed. If the slime were to be attacked, for example, it wouldn't have the angel's [Protection from Darkness], but the slime's [Slime Shield]. The visual effect would be of the angel's form rippling like a mirage.

Conversely, an angel becoming a slime visually could activate [Winged Flight]. The slime would then look eerie, swimming through the air. If it was struck, the slime would not deform, as a slime should, but there'd be a loud clang sound of someone hitting steel plate.

The effect lasted only for an hour, and did not wear off for whatever reason. It could not be detected by magical means. It could not be dispelled by anyone, even a God, unless a World class item were used. It thus allowed a God's allies to carry out deception strategies, such as this one that Punitto Moe planned out with a few of the smart guild members.

"Protect Momonga from being discovered", was the main objective. Then they had to strike hard, and fast, eliminating the World monster before the effect wore off. Along the way, they had to appear as if they were just normal players, and not the world-famous guild Ainz Ooal Gown. Their fame had made the members' appearances common knowledge, enough that certain guilds had already made bounty posters for each of the 41 members. If they attacked in their heteromorphic form, the other players would surely switch focus to them, particularly the [God of Unlife] Momonga-san.

Presently, everyone in Momonga's party applied [Loki's Tongue]. As each cost about 400 thousand gold, and each member had to use one, the costs were therefore exorbitant. If not for the millions deposited in the guild vaults by players like Momonga and Suratan through the Cash Shop, they'd be bankrupt by now.

Now Momonga looked like an average human, though he wore the same ornate robes as his skeletal form. He glanced around at his team-mates.

"Eh?"

Standing before Momonga was an elementary school girl in a puffy dress. With blonde twintails. She turned around, examining herself. "Bukubukuchagama-san?" Momonga asked.

"What is it, onii-chan?~ Tee-hee," replied the girl, wagging her brows and twisting her body. Just from her voice, Momonga could tell it was her. They'd all known the player's job as a seiyuu. She had recently branched out from eroge voicework to anime. Momonga, no, Suzuki Satoru, had a complicated look on his face whenever he saw the commercial about the anime on TV, knowing it was his guildmate doing the cutesy voice on the main character.

"Uwah! Nee-san, why did you pick that?" cried the suave-looking gentleman in a long black cape.

"Wow, Peroroncino-san..." His friend looked like a sophisticated Western gentleman, who would not look out of place dancing in a ballroom somewhere.

"Oi, shut up, foolish otouto. What's with that outfit, huh? Gonna star in Castlevania or something? Gonna get whipped by handsome vampire slayers?" Her voice was now deeper, like it belonged to someone older.

"Th-this isn't a vampire outfit, nee-san. It's a world-famous outfit from that classic anime fifty years ago! Remember?" He did a striking pose, making his cape flutter.

Wow, so uncool, was Momonga's thought. Naturally, he kept such thoughts private. While the sibling duo bickered, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Wow, you didn't really customize yourself, Momonga-san?" said the human carrying the voice of Herohero. Momonga almost paled at the sight. He was a human who wouldn't look out of place in the yakuza. He had piercing eyes, arms and bodies bulging with muscles, and wore a sleeveless shirt and pinstriped pants. There was a large scar across his face. Momonga wouldn't be surprised if he actually swaggered, saying "Whatchu lookin' at? Huh?" like the classic yakuza flunkie.

"That's-well, I see you were very creative with yours, Herohero-san..."

Despite his fierce looks, Herohero's voice was as polite as ever. He scratched his head. "Well, I mostly got the appearance from an online site..."

Now Momonga felt a bit ashamed. When he was customizing his [Loki's Tongue] appearance, he wanted to stick to his old form thematically. He tried multiple combinations before settling on the default human setting, saying "Eh, whatever", and setting his clothes to default as well. Now he looked-well, like an ordinary human cosplaying a mage.

A beauty then walked into his vision. "Always so noisy," said the woman.

Silence. Peroroncino, Bukubukuchagama, Momonga and Herohero openly gaped at the sight. For the voice was certainly Ulbert-san's, but the body-

"Why, a woman?" Peroroncino's sister asked weakly.

"Ulbert" was now a woman in a bartender's outfit, with long red hair tied in a loose ponytail over the shoulder. Her, well, his boobs were... large, like two ripe fruits. She had a curvy body, with that salacious charm that most of the time was associated with sultry seductresses. And the face, of course, was not just pretty-it was a beautiful face with Western features. Momonga could safely say he hadn't seen any Japanese woman with this kind of beauty.

"Hm? This? What's wrong with a little cross-dressing?" asked Ulbert. "It's just a little exploration. I'm still completely hetero, thanks very much." Making a tsking sound with his tongue, Ulbert cupped his impressive bust. "Too big. I thought I had the right size when I was customizing... ah well. Maybe later."

When they'd all finally shook off the surprise from the goat-turned-seductress, they turned to the final member, Touch Me-san.

"What," they all said, even the seductress.

Where once stood a valiant knight in silver, there now stood what looked like someone's cruel prank. It was a half-naked muscular man, wearing a brown paper-bag over his head, and wearing boxers. The boxers had heart-shaped prints. There were holes on the mask to show the eyes. The man was completely barefoot. Momonga would not have known this was Touch Me, if not for the sword and shield slung behind his back. Two sets of belts wrapped in an "X" formation around his chest, forming a crude harness for the weapons.

"Hoh. We're certainly an eclectic bunch," Touch Me remarked, looking around as if he were stating the wellness of the weather.

"Oh, I'm having a headache," said the little girl, in a low voice belonging to a woman thrice her age. She sank to the grass like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

The woman formerly known as Ulbert snorted. Peroroncino murmured to Momonga, "Hey, is it just me or is Touch Me-san weirder since the divorce?"

"I don't think now's a good time to discuss those type of things..." Momonga whispered back.

"Touch Me-san," Herohero ventured. "Why do you look like a man... a homeless man?"

"Make no mistake Herohero-san, I am no man," said Touch Me. He lifted his paper bag to show the face beneath. It had two long ears. "I am an elf."

"There's no elf as muscular as you!" Peroroncino shouted. A moment later, he sighed.

"With all this weirdness," said the little girl, "It makes sense our guildmaster's the normal one."

 _No, it doesn't make sense at all! Why didn't I take more time customizing! I don't want this normal sort of disguise!_ These were all Momonga's thoughts. Well, it wasn't like it really mattered-it'd disappear after an hour. Momonga rather felt like he was the odd one out, giving him an odd sense of isolation.

"It's almost time," said the bartender. They all looked at their virtual watches, which read: [11:58:55]. Bellriver's precise calculations required that all buffs be cast at thirty seconds before the event started. Once the monster spawned, all spells cast near its perimeter were no longer "hate-free". If they somehow gained the attention of the monster just through casting buffs, their positions would be revealed prematurely by an area spell, making the plan fail.

At thirty seconds, Momonga, Ulbert and Bukubukuchagama began to cast buffs over their party. Additionally, Momonga used a cash item to make all spells cast on his party have [Extend] and [Empower] traits, leaving them to be able to use [Widen] on all the buffs.

At twenty seconds, they were done. Momonga swallowed, adrenaline flooding his system. He hastily cast a wide [Message]. "Everyone, good luck," he said.

There was a chorus of "Affirmative" from everyone. Their voices gave Momonga strength.

At ten seconds, all his party members nodded to each other. They knew what they had to do. It had been discussed again and again in the weeks leading up to the event. The bartender grinned confidently. The beefcake yakuza cricked his neck. The half-naked hobo rolled his shoulders. The little blonde twintail readied her magical scepter. The caped gentleman narrowed his eyes over the horizon. Momonga took a deep breath, ready to summon any spell from his 2000 strong repertoire.

5.

4.

3.

2.

1-

Everything went dark.

A second later-

"What the heck happened?"

"Crash?"

"Shitty devs!"

"What's going on?" asked Momonga, looking around at the darkness. It was like he and his party mates stood in the middle of a very dark room. He could vaguely see the others, which was weird because he was supposed to have perfect dark vision.

"Everyone, calm down," came the rumbling voice of Touch Me. "This is probably because of the load on the server. It's a shame but, maybe this time is a bust."

"All that work and preparation..." mumbled Herohero. He was fairly disappointed.

"Oooh, does this mean we get apology tickets?" said Peroroncino. No matter what, Yggdrasil would still have the occasional glitch and problem. Most times it happened to players. The developers awarded these players special items as an apology, and these were usually very rare drops from annoying boss creatures.

"Oh, the light's coming back on."

There was a huge burst of light, and they returned to the world. Momonga breathed a sigh of relief. Then he remembered there was supposed to be a battle, so he cast [Rebounding Bubble] in case of a sudden attack.

"Hm?" Then something strange caught his eye. No, it was more like he was surprised he didn't notice the first time they went out of the dark.

This was no longer the hilltop where they'd prepared. They stood in the middle of some dark forest.

"At least bring us back to our point of departure, shitty devs!" Peroroncino shouted, his voice echoing.

"Geez. And here our plans end in a resounding failure," said Ulbert.

"Everyone..." said Touch Me. "Do not panic." Despite saying that, Momonga could tell there was a hint of urgency in Touch Me's voice, which he'd only ever heard when there was an incoming ambush.

"What?"

"What do you mean?" The others were confused by Touch Me's manner.

Then Momonga saw it. His UI had disappeared. "Impossible!" he cried. "The UI!" The rest realized then, as well. Their cries ranged from surprised to distressed.

"This is really weird..." Momonga couldn't stop himself from saying that. Panic began to rise like bile to his throat. But then a second later, he felt a rush of something like a cool wind blow through his body, extinguishing that feeling. Though confused by this, Momonga couldn't pay attention to it yet.

Everyone tried the emergency player functions: [Call GM], [Forced System Access], [Log Out] and other macros-

None of it worked. Or rather, without the UI there wasn't anything to show they were actually using those functions.

"The hell is going on," Ulbert rasped.

A thought occured to Momonga. [Message] He can't believe he forgot that important spell. When an enemy forced teleportation on him, immediately after casting defensive spells, Momonga usually cast [Message] to let the guildmembers know about his plight. It had become doubly useful when he'd become a God.

"[Message]" he muttered. The spell worked. A glow surrounded Momonga, getting the others' attention.

"What?"

"Wow!"

"What was that, Momonga-san?" asked Herohero.

"Just a simple [Message]," he said.

"Ah, of course. Why didn't I think of that," said Touch Me.

Would it work? He cast [Message], intended for Punitto Moe.

Nothing. He got the feeling of a dead telecomm line. Not busy, or away, just dead. He tried the rest, in sequence, burning up mana-Tabula, Wish III, Warrior Takemikazuchi, Yamaiko, Nishiki-san, Bellriver, Tigris Euphrates...

No one answered. The other thirty-six guild members were incommunicado. Which was impossible.

"I can't reach anyone on my friends' list too," said Peroroncino.

"Nor mine," said Ulbert.

"Hmph," said Bukubukuchagama. "Anyone else seeing this?" She pointed to a tree trunk, from which she scraped a few pieces of bark with her nails.

The eyes of Momonga's disguised human bulged, and indeed this was a surprising situation. No matter the graphical upgrade, trees in rebooted Yggdrasil were just background props: tactical cover at most, and a mass of refined pixels at the least. He watched Touch Me put bits of bark close to his nose and sniff.

"Smells real."

"Everything does," mumbled Ulbert, whose beautiful visage was looking around the forest. "Either this is a very advanced prank by some really shitty devs, or some sort of... I don't know-"

"Oh fuck no," said Peroroncino. His eyes were wide, and he appeared to be pale. "This is... this is almost exactly like the plot in Log Horizon."

"Log what?" asked his sister.

"It's an old anime series from over a hundred years ago... like before all that crap with the Cultural Revolution. The Golden Age of Anime-"

"Get to the point, please," snapped Ulbert.

"Well... sorry, it's just that in that story, there were a group of people playing this VR online game, and one day they were suddenly whisked to their game world, where they'd become very real inhabitants in it."

"Like the plot in _Gem Maiden Kuroko_?" asked Bukubukuchagama. The name was familiar to Momonga, and he recalled it being a famous children's anime. He also remembered something about its plot when he read about in a magazine.

"Nah, in that one the girl just went into her storybook, right?" said Peroroncino. "In Log Horizon, they went into their game. Like, the game became real, they could eat things, fight things, even..." His voice became hushed. "Even die."

Everyone in the group gulped loudly. "Did they not have rezzes?" asked Ulbert.

"Well... I can't really recall. But it's not the point. The point is if we are indeed, facing a hitherto impossible and fantastical situation like those characters-"

It didn't need to be said. This was a catastrophe of the highest order. And it wasn't like they could complain about the developers-although they probably could, if they had anything to do with it. But far likelier was the thought that this was real, this was happening, Suzuki Satoru was really Momonga-

Hm.

"Peroroncino-san," he said. "Did they ever come back?"

"Huh?"

"Those people in the story... Were they able to get back to their own place?"

The caped gentleman frowned. "Frankly, I don't remember. I just recalled the story because it's one of the Golden Age notables. I wasn't really into the whole 'transported into a different world' concept. Which is ironic, considering..." he indicated himself.

"Then, let us bank on the hope that they did," Momonga said. "It's the least we can do... right?"

"Hrm... That is perhaps the best we can do under the circumstances," said Touch Me. "Less time for panic, and more for managing our situation. In emergencies like these, we must always look to survival."

"Emergency, huh?" Bukubukuchagama wondered. "If it is, it lacks a certain tension... But I agree. It's best we stick together, and maybe we can get back to reality."

"Or we can find a way," Peroroncino ventured. Indeed. There was that chance.

"But what about our bodies?" asked Herohero. The question brought even more silence. It was thought-provoking, and indeed Momonga wondered about the body he left behind. Had his mind transferred into his game avatar? Was he dead? Or comatose? Or did his whole body get sucked into the dive machine, and merged with the data-

Too many theories. And no way to prove them.

"We cannot think about that now," said Touch Me. "Not to be blunt, of course, but there's really nothing we can do for now."

"I understand," said Herohero. "But personally, I'm not complaining. At least this gives me an excuse not to be early for work tomorrow."

"Hmph. An excellent point," said Ulbert. "An extended vacation, and if anyone complains, we can always point to the shitty devs. I just hope they don't get bankrupt from all the heat coming on their heads right about now."

"Ah, but nee-san's fans might get upset," said Peroroncino. His sister shook her head, tossing the twintails over her shoulder, though she said nothing.

"Then, is it alright if I take a vote?" said Momonga.

"Hoh. As expected of our Guildmaster. Always on the ball. Very well, what shall it be?"

"We should promise to stick together for the future, while we're in this strange situation. And if we ever discover a way back, we won't take it until everyone returns together. Does anyone want to add anything?"

"A pact, huh?" asked Ulbert. His eyes glittered. "I like it."

"It's too bad we can't make a magical contract," said Peroroncino.

"Our solemn vows should be enough," said Touch Me. "It would be a despicable human who would abandon his friends." Momonga felt a surge of admiration for his old friend.

"All in favor?" said Bukubukuchagama.

"Aye!"

And with that shout, the strange story of a group of members from Ainz Ooal Gown, stuck in a new world, began. Unbeknownst to them, their arrival would herald a great upheaval in this world-but that shall be for later.

* * *

 **Shurpuff says:**

 **So a reader on this site told me that a story of mine reminds him of a light novel series, Overlord. Curious, I read through it all. Then a story idea hooked its way into my mind. Damn it!**

 **So, thanks for reading, there's a second chapter coming, and as always, any feedback is welcome.**


	2. New World

They first examined themselves.

They tested their five senses-as it applied to their new monster forms.

Under the disguise made by [Loki's Tongue], they were still in their fundamental heteromorphic forms. There was one general rule that they discovered not five minutes after making the Pact: their bodies existed as if it were natural for them to have it. There was no strange disconnect with their "real world" human selves and the monstrous forms in the game that had become their new reality.

The two slimes, for example, were able to ooze their way across the ground without much change. When they needed to use "limbs", a certain part of their gelatinous mass extended. Slimes could not naturally see, hear, or smell-but the two could do it just as if they were humans. In fact, they had more sensations than was normal for humans, being able to detect minute changes in their surroundings.

"It's honestly a bit of a headache," Herohero remarked.

Next, Touch Me-san's race of insectoid did not have that much of a change. Like the slimes he'd become an invertebrate, with vastly different body organs. He had more joints than usual, and his mouth certainly wasn't something a human would readily kiss. But as usual, they all seemed natural for him to have.

"One doesn't need to be a doctor to be aware of one's body," Touch Me explained. "Conversely, people can live their whole lives without knowing what's going on inside them."

He did have heightened sight owing to his compound eyes. But he could hear, taste and smell just fine. Ulbert then surmised that it might be because of certain passive skills which elevated their monster races to near-human, or perhaps "divine" functions. Though they were heteromorphs, as players they had already gone far beyond what should be a monster's normal limits.

But that was just Ulbert-san's theory.

As for the devil Ulbert and the birdman Peroroncino, their new forms did not need much mental adjustment. The latter could fly with wings using [Avian Flight], doing it instinctively like he'd been flying since he'd been born.

Ulbert could certainly eat grass and leaves, which were in abundance in this forest. But after the first few chews he spat it out.

"It's going to be an acquired taste," he said.

In sum, no one really complained about their forms, because there were no new stimuli for them, nor did they need to overcome certain challenges.

As for Momonga, his new undead form brought them to their next problem: food.

Momonga was a skeleton. He did not need to eat. On the other hand, the two slimes needed to eat, and had expressed their ravenous hunger.

If there was a scale among the party, Momonga was at one end with "never needing to eat", then followed by Touch Me, whose specific insectoid race could eat almost anything, and could go on for days without eating, then Ulbert and Peroroncino, who were the most "human-like" in their hunger, then the slimes, who always needed to eat.

Grass and foliage did not dampen their hunger, no matter how much they dissolved into their bodies. As a stopgap, Touch Me and Ulbert lent them [Ring of Sustenance], a rare item that removed the need to eat. However, everyone had to take note of the slimes' nature-there might be a case of their needing to wear other rings.

After the first few hours of examining their bodies, what followed was the exploration of skills. Most notably, magic.

It was strange to start. In the game, they only needed to chant and move their hands in complicated gestures to activate a spell. Heck, they could even just press a button on the interface, and the game would do the action for them.

In this new world, however, they had to do a bit more. They chanted, moved their hands, but they also had to focus with their minds-summoning some unknown power from deep within themselves.

Thank goodness it was instinctual. Momonga didn't know what they'd have done if he needed to practice every gesture and memorize every chant needed to cast one of his 2000 spells.

The result of the actual spells being cast ranged from small flashes of light to-

"Cancel it, Ulbert-san! It's going to burn the forest!"

"I can't cancel it, dummy!" Ulbert roared, pointing his fingers up, causing the continuous stream of fireballs to explode in the sky. They all shielded their eyes from the sight-a useless gesture, they were all immune to blind status-and waited until the Rank 11 Maximized spell ended.

"Hmph," said Ulbert. "Well that was interesting." The seductress grinned, rubbing her fingers together in what could be construed as a lewd manner.

They agreed to be more careful with magic from then on. There was little need to be flashy unless the situation required it. Also, if there were other magic casters here, they run the risk of being seen as hostile.

"Though," said Chagama-san, "It's not like we're going to be using it on other players anymore, right?" Everyone murmured agreement-if they encountered a human, which was a given since her brother had mentioned the characters of Log Horizon had encountered "natives" of the world, they'd first negotiate instead of attacking. Even if it didn't look like a human, as long as it had some sort of sentience and were not threats, they wouldn't attack.

Not a week later and they'd look back on this moment and agree that they had all been naive.

Back to the present, Touch Me next began to test his physical prowess. He leaped from tree to tree, did backflips and other complex gymnastic moves, before doing a complicated sword dance with his sword.

"I dunno how to say this..." said Touch Me. He flexed his fingers. "But I feel pretty good. More than good. Excellent! I feel like I'm a superhero or something. I can move so fast, and I don't even get dizzy from doing somersaults again and again."

"That's awesome," said Herohero and the others.

Herohero tried with his lunging and agile moves, and got almost the same results. While he agreed that his movements were leagues better than when he was just a human, he conceded that Touch Me was faster and more capable than him.

"Nonsense," said Touch Me disguised as a hobo. "How do I say it-I'm just pretty used to this stuff from the real world. I'm sure after some time, you'll get a better hang of your capabilities. With your slime nature, you might even be able to surpass me."

This was somewhat true, if one compared their player abilities in the game. In a PvP fight using equal levels of gear, Herohero had a slight edge over Touch Me. Leaving aside his ability to slowly melt equipment, his new class levels were about making fast strikes and lunges with his slime body. His slime nature could also make his attacks curve or bend past defenses to strike at vulnerabilities. An ultimate skill, [Thousand Slime Spike] could even thrust a thousand small spikes-each sharper than adamantine-to overwhelm a fast enemy.

Touch Me, on the other hand, relied on brutal close combat using his sword and shield. He was also more specced for taking hits, making his agility a tad lower than Herohero's. And yet even with that evaluation, Momonga silently thought that Touch Me-san was still being humble. No one ascended to World Champion status on two different games just by luck.

Next, they attempted to test their other player functions. None of their macros worked, no matter how much they concentrated. Then they wanted to see if their Item Box worked.

"Oooh!" Cries of wonder were heard as they withdrew their items from a small "pocket dimension". It felt like a relief-there were some hard-earned items in that storage space. Although this was an emergency situation, a reminder that they'd once been humans playing a game, symbolized by the memories stored in every piece of item or equipment in their Item Box, bound them more strongly to their previous lives.

As they walked through the forest, they then encountered native small vermin: squirrels, giant bugs, and other critters. The two slimes practiced catching these with their bodies, as an early passive of the slime class [Vermin Eater] gave them immense food stores by eating lesser creatures. Such a useless early-game skill, only used for roleplaying, became a bit more important now. With that, they tried to return the [Ring of Sustenance], but Ulbert insisted they keep wearing those.

Every once in a while, Peroroncino flew up to survey the tops of the forest around for any disturbance. Using his various [Eye] abilities, he could detect and spy for close to five kilometres. This was what made him a deadly marksman in the game. The magic casters all had various [Fly] spells, but only Peroroncino could see into the distance with ease.

Still, so far he hadn't spotted anything yet.

Until now.

"Fire," he said, landing back down. "There's a column of smoke not that far from us." He pointed in the direction of the fire.

"Shall we investigate?" Momonga asked. Everyone nodded. "Then, if you please, Peroroncino-san, you can go ahead and scout. While I conjure-"

"I'll go on ahead as well," said Touch Me, vaulting quickly into the trees.

"Uwah! There he goes," said Chagama-san.

Ulbert preempted Momonga and cast [Cloudstrider], conjuring a sizable cloud which they could ride. The cloud was as fast as Peroroncino's flying. The four of them got on. With a wave, the cloud began to move towards the fire.

* * *

Gologriki thought it all unfair. He was the strongest warrior among his mudmates. And yet because of Malatriti's trickery in the sparring arena, the Demon King uplifted the scheming boar instead of him.

Now he had to suffer under the bastard's command. A thankless job, but one he had to do, to ensure his family in the capital was well-fed. Fresh humans were becoming a rarity in this world. Most of the scraps they ate came from captured zombies from the armies of Night Queen Shalltear. In other words, undead flesh. They were once taboo for the pig-men, but necessity forced them to abide.

Malatriti had received information from up high that there were still pockets of humans hiding in the Dread Forest near Great Tomb Nazarick. If they managed to capture at least five humans, they could feast on a leg, or at least a head. The prospect gave Gologriki a small morale boost.

The shaman's tracking magic found the humans before long. Malatriti snorted at him to begin, and Gol grudgingly did. His small force of brutes wielded thick, menacing clubs, intended to knock out or disable instead of outright killing. Live humans were a commodity much sought in the Kingdom of the Faithful.

Soon, he and his men could scent the humans. They had a sweet, cloying scent much different from other species, though elves smelled the best. But humans were a good second, and his snout was able to tell there were at least ten humans in the camp up ahead.

Someone in his troop roared, breaking the silence. Gol punched the offending brute silent, but the damage was done. They heard screams, chaos. An arrow came flying to hit a brute on the shoulder. Enraged, the brute charged, and Gol could no longer hold them back from attacking.

* * *

She couldn't believe they'd gotten so lax.

After almost a month fleeing from the Demon King's hellhound packs, her band of survivors had been reduced in half. Most collapsed due to hunger or the stress from their numerous wounds. These corpses they burned, to spare their bodies and souls from depravity.

Then, they were able to flee to the Dread Forest. Despite the name, Nemu knew they were one of the few truly safe places in the world. She'd been there ten years ago, when she'd served in the Imperial army as a scout. Her group had mapped the Forest, a suicide mission, but by the end they'd concluded that the greatest danger in the Forest was a snake in the bush. It appeared that the Nazarick creatures had cleansed the Forest long before.

They'd spent some weeks here in relative safety, subsisting on the few animals they could hunt. There was some grumbling in the group, but they knew there was no true alternative. It was either this despair-ridden life in the outskirts, or a hellish existence on the breeding farms.

Nemu at least thought they'd be relatively safe. There had been no signs of pursuit.

She cursed her carelessness.

The pig-men charged into the barricades, stumbling over the traps they'd set. A particularly hidden snapping bear-trap caught one of the pig-men, and Nemu felt some pleasure in hearing its screams.

But they had to run. Already, everyone was running their own way. She regretted not being able to rally everyone. At this point, they may just run into the group of beasts that were likely waiting outside, having surely encircled their encampment.

But Nemu Emrot could not longer bring herself to care. She had to survive, even by herself.

She had to save _her_. Had to give her peace.

Gathering her belongings, she unslung her bow, prepared an arrow, then rushed into the bushes. She closed her eyes, willing herself to block out the numerous screams around her.

She started to crawl.

* * *

Foolishly, one of the brutes kicked fire into the tents. That began a dangerous blaze in the camp.

Gol hastily ordered the remaining brutes to dig up dirt to smother the fires. If this spread, they might literally get cooked in the forest fire to come.

When the fire grew small enough, Gol ordered a brute to report to Malatriti about their success. The captured humans were laid on a pile.

Gol took a couple of brutes and left the camp to begin rooting for survivors. It was just a precaution, but it was a hungry boar who did not forage in the bushes thoroughly.

Not long after, he found a scent.

* * *

Nemu smelled them quickly.

 _Whoosh!_

She let fire with an arrow, killing one of the beasts. Wasting no time, she hastily brought the next arrow to shoot at the brute that came running.

If she could just kill these, she'd get a head-start fleeing. She knew pig-men to be meticulous, and no doubt they'd go around in circles searching for her. But they were also naturally cowardly, and if she could kill these three, she'd become a fearful existence. Then they might not even have to chase her, being content with the people they'd already captured.

She felt the ground rumble. Knowing she could not draw another arrow, she prepared her curved daggers, tensed, then swiped at the last charging pig-man. She aimed at the thing's legs, hoping to hamstring the beast.

"Guh!"

The beast had anticipated her swing, and had knocked her dagger away.

No matter.

She rolled forward. The other dagger was still in her hand. She crouched, watching the beast.

* * *

Gol chuckled. This one was feisty. And skilled, as he felt the brutes die even before their tusks hit the ground.

He licked his lips. Once again, his hunger reared up to torment him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd tasted fresh human. Even if it would render the corpse invalid, at least just one bite...

And if it were this fragrant female, that was a double dose of satisfaction. They were just so fine and chewable, their bones making fine noises in his mouth.

He readied his club.

No one need ever know.

His beady eyes watched the human's stance, anticipated where she'd strike. He could take her. He'd taken on brutes far stronger than this stringy female. Knock her out, then take a nibble-perhaps a leg, or one of its breasts.

But it was then-

* * *

 _And it was then-_

* * *

Gol heard a noise. He turned his head, half-expecting to have to argue with Malatriti or one of the brutes. But it was not a pig-man.

Another human!

The female shouted something, and Gol stepped back. Two on one wasn't good odds, even if the human wasn't wearing any armor whatsoever. He could clearly spy the weapons on its back.

And the mask... there was something unnerving about its faceless visage: plain, brown, expressionless.

Gol wasted no time. He turned and ran.

* * *

Nemu Emmot could hardly believe it. A white warrior had suddenly appeared, and had made the pig-man flee.

She stood up, eyeing the newcomer warily. She still held on to her dagger.

"Who are you?" she asked, edging her way to the nearest tree-trunk. If it started to attack, she hoped to use the forest to flee and hide.

She could not exactly say why she was wary. The warrior looked fairly innocuous.

But then she remembered the angels a long time ago, who were the perfect image of holiness. And yet they had ravaged her village.

She steeled her heart.

Then it said, "Are you alright?"

The voice was muffled, but it sounded human. Still, Nemu kept her guard up. Plenty of fiends mimicked human speech perfectly.

"Who are you?"

"Touch Me."

"Touch who? You?"

"No, my name is Touch Me. I am a warrior of Ainz Ooal Gown." The warrior put its hand to its chest and bowed.

"Ainz... what is that, a country?"

"No, you could say that it is a... guild. Do you understand?"

"A guild? Like the Adventurer's Guild?" The institution was long defunct, ever since the Theocracy fell. But there were demi-humans calling themselves adventurers roaming the lands.

"Well, yes. We are adventurers of sorts."

"So... you're lying." She explained the Adventurer Guild's fate. "If you say you come from them, then I know you're trying to deceive me!" She made to leave.

"Wait, wait!" he cried. "You misunderstand. We are not this 'Adventurer's Guild'. We are Ainz Ooal Gown. And I swear on the name of Touch Me that no harm shall befall you."

"Honeyed words," said Nemu coldly. "But I am no fool."

After a short pause, the warrior said, "Then, I do not intend to stop you anymore, but please answer me... Who was that strange creature? And why were you fighting it?"

Nemu gave the warrior a puzzled glance. There was supposed to be no one who didn't know about the plight of humanity, and the ascendancy of the other races. Pig-men joined the ranks of goblins, orcs, and the other beastmen races in persecuting humanity in the name of their new masters.

She decided not to answer.

Perhaps sensing her resolve, the warrior waved his gauntleted hands in a gesture of surrender. "Fine, it's fine. I won't stop you any longer. But please, take this." By some sleight of hand, there now was a glass bottle on the warrior's palm. Inside was liquid as red as blood. "This is a healing potion. Please take it and use it for yourself." He tossed it toward her.

She caught the potion handily. She glared at the warrior.

That act of throwing might well have been like throwing a bomb or a flask of acid at her. She glanced at the bottle, testing the way the liquid sloshed inside. She had some experience with mixtures, having spent some time with the legendary Nfirea Bareare.

When she looked up, the strange white warrior had disappeared.

* * *

Gol slowed to a stop. There was some sort of commotion in the camp.

He heard complaints, shouts, threats. The remaining brutes surrounded Malatriti, who was gnawing on a human's head. In the next moment, Gol found himself angry as well, and pushed through the crowd to face the leader.

"A good haul, my warriors!" Malatriti shouted. His mouth was full of meat. "But forgive me, it is not time for us to eat yet."

"And why are you eating?" Gol demanded. "It is not in the rules for anyone, even the leader, to eat what is supposed to be tribute for the masters!"

"Yeah," shouted a number of brutes.

"Shut up! I work tirelessly to lead this pitiful group, so it's only fitting that some of the rewards go to me! What would you wretches know of leadership? Huh?"

"I'm sure I can teach you a lot of things, Malatriti," Gol growled. "Malatriti the Spineless. Malatriti the Tuskless. Tell me, Malatriti, without your poisons, what are you but a coward?"

"What? You go too far, Gologriki!" Malatriti brandished his spiked mace, holding the end towards Gol's snout. Gol growled, and spat on the ground.

"I shall take my rightful place, Malatriti. The position of warleader shall go to-" Gol stopped. He had sensed something amiss around him. Malatriti, having felt the same, twitched his ears and looked around.

He knew the brutes would stand down when two males were about to fight. But they shouldn't be this silent.

Pig-men snorted and stomped even if they didn't say anything. So this pure silence was not just eerie, it was-

And then he saw what all the other pig-men were seeing.

There stood a group of humans. Not something to fear, of course, but the random assortment made him pause.

There was a small girl. There was a tall female. There was a blonde man in a cape. There was a man whose muscles bulged like an ogre. Then, standing right behind them, was what looked to be a young magic caster.

"Humans!" cried Malatriti, dropping the head. He knocked away a pig-man who stood in the way. "Well what are you waiting for? Get them!"

None of the pig-men moved. Something like instinct blocked their actions. There was something to these humans, maybe the way they didn't look like the ragged creatures they just captured, or the shining light in their eyes.

Gol could also understand the feeling, and he hesitated to charge; though it was for a different reason.

He didn't know if the pig-men or Malatriti noticed, but the humans had no scent. It was something unnatural. The Demon Lord, even in his magnificence, smelled like ash. Humans smelled sweet, his family smelled like home. Even the undead smelled, they smelled bad, and wrong.

And he could smell nothing from these harmless-looking humans.

Instead, he felt-

Fear.

What? He gritted his teeth. Impossible. These were just ordinary humans. Perhaps the magic caster was the leader, and could perhaps be able to cast troublesome spells. But what could a small girl, or that arrogant looking man in a cape do?

Human children were even better tribute, but he'd only ever seen a few. Apparently it was because they made for such lovely playthings for the demons.

Then there was the caped man, who looked like some sort of noble. He'd seen so-called nobles scream allegiance to the Demon Lord during the annual festivals, and saw them as pitiful things. As a pig-man he understood these creatures were formerly leaders of the humans, much like Malatriti was.

So what did he have to "fear"?

The spell was broken-if indeed there was a spell-when the big human said, "What is that-are you seriously eating humans, you monsters?"

Their gazes sharpened, making Gol gasp.

Where before the humans weren't emitting anything, now there was intense pressure that seemed to come out of nowhere. It was like his heart was being crushed by a dozen boulders. He smelled some of the brutes shit themselves screaming.

"Oi," said the big human. "Answer me, damn it! Is this... is this that type of world?" The human clenched his fist, and made as if to walk forward.

"Stop, Herohero-san," said the woman, thrusting a hand to keep him back. "Didn't we all agree to give natives a chance?"

"But you saw them too, Ulbert-san! They were eating-they were-"

"Enough!" shouted Malatriti. He charged, raising his mace. Gol didn't know whether to praise the bastard for his bravery, or pity him for foolishness. "They're just humans, you shits! They're just good for eating-"

 _Splat!_

A second before Malatriti could reach the closest human-the small girl-he disappeared.

Something hot and wet hit Gol's face. Then, the rest of his body. He grunted, wiping away the stuff that had landed on his eyes.

He blinked. It was blood.

He looked at where Malatriti had been. There was a fountain of blood spouting out from what looked to be his legs.

Everything above that had disappeared into thin air.

"Ah." The muscular man had his arm raised, palm outward, as if to stop the warleader's charge. That hand was now slick with blood.

The human stared at the stumps of leg that had once been Malatriti. He looked around at the other humans. "Uh-oh."

The brutes squealed. They turned around and ran, and Gol ran with them. He did not have time to be smug that Malatriti had died an stupid death-not when death was close by.

"Hey, where the heck are you going?" he heard one of the humans say. "You haven't answered our question! [Magnetic Rune]!"

Immediately he felt as if a hand gripped his neck, and dragged him backward through the air. There came the sound of flesh hitting flesh as he collided with the bodies of other brutes.

Dazed, he looked up, and saw that he was huddled in a small mountain of squirming pig-men. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't extract himself from the pile.

He was only able to watch as the strange humans approached.

As they did, Gologriki felt a sense of impending doom.

* * *

"I... I... killed someone..." Herohero muttered.

"Calm down, Herohero-san," said Momonga, though in his heart, he still felt the same stab of horror when Herohero just thrust out his hand and somehow exploded the pig-man on contact.

Peroroncino laughed, somewhat hysterically. "We sure aren't in Yggdrasil anymore, guys. I mean, I'm quite sure those aren't pixels."

He pointed at the surroundings, which had been dyed red.

That, and the blood, and the carcass left behind by the monster, wiped away all thoughts that this was all just an ultra-realistic beta test by the shitty devs.

Yggdrasil had a rating restriction. If there were any content judged to be above that threshold in the game, the company would receive more than just a reprimand. This was why, even if it was a PvP-style, when a player was killed he just exploded into light, not into gory pieces. Other content such as sex and the such were also not present.

Thus, there was one conclusion in their brain.

This was reality. This was not just a game.

Chagama-san laughed, almost echoing her little brother. Ulbert had a strange glint in his eyes.

They could not help being that way. In the span of five minutes, they'd witnessed something most people wouldn't see in a lifetime, outside of movies or television.

Still, for all his pity at the slain pig-man, Momonga had yet to get over the sight of their eating a human, like it was a piece of food. Momonga suffered intense feelings of disgust and nausea, which were promptly stifled by his undead trait.

Before, he'd been annoyed that he couldn't feel happy for long; he was thankful now that it helped him stop the feelings of disgust.

"It seems I'm late," said a voice. Touch Me walked out from the trees, as casual as can be.

He couldn't see his expression because of the mask (and even his normal self was covered in a helm). Momonga wondered what he thought, seeing all this.

"W-we have to see to the people," Chagama-san said, running over to the pile. The others followed, Momonga keeping an eye on the pig-men. The [Magnetic Rune]'s effects lasted five minutes for those under Level 50; above that and they could break it immediately if they had the right amount of stats.

"This is..." Herohero mouthed, looking at the severed head.

Peroroncino doubled over, and made gagging noises. Ulbert gulped loudly, while Touch Me worked to separate the tangle of bodies.

Once again, Momonga was afflicted by many feelings of revulsion, but a second later the undead trait snuffed that out. Still, his feelings continued to boil below the surface, not truly extinguished.

"Touch Me-san," said Chagama-san, her voice now her normal one. Though they only heard that voice when she was angry, now it sounded so muted. Defeated.

Touch Me shook his head. He withdrew his hand from the last body. "Though their bodies are warm, they don't have a pulse. Nearly all of them were from-" the man hesitated. "Head trauma. A lot of it."

Chagama-san's hand clenched. Momonga saw it was trembling.

She turned around, walked to the pig-men. Her arm extended, like a piece of taffy, completely disregarding the Loki Disguise.

The arm gripped one of the pig-men who looked distinctive from the rest. He had on better-looking armor, and had a distinctive tattoo on his snout.

Chagama-san dragged that one out, breaking the pull of the [Magnetic Rune]. That required a lot of strength. Or anger.

"Talk, monster," Chagama-san snarled. "Who are you? Why are you eat-hunting humans?"

The others were now surrounding the singled out pig-man.

Momonga saw their eyes glitter with fury. If he had a mirror, he was sure his own eyes were the same.

* * *

All warriors had a danger sense.

Beast-men even more so, often being born in brutal conditions.

It allowed them to avoid bad things. A poisonous fruit. A stronger predator.

Eventually, a danger sense became necessary for working on the front-lines, where one would encounter danger every moment of one's life.

Gol's danger sense had overloaded the moment the short female dragged him out from the strange magic.

This was more than just shivering from fear.

His body felt like it was being crushed beneath an ocean, impaled by a million icy spikes, and caught in a vicious cyclone.

All at once.

His mind, which couldn't reconcile the fact that this feeling came from ordinary looking humans. Like a young girl? A half-naked man?

He exhaled.

But he couldn't.

He was choking on something.

Moment by moment, he felt his mind flying.

He knew nothing.

He was...

Nothing.

* * *

"It seems he fainted," Touch Me remarked.

The pig-man had froth coming from its snout. Also, it smelled bad.

"Then, the next-" Herohero said, turning to the pile of captured pig-men.

"No, they're also fainted," said Ulbert.

"Ugh, I think this one and that one shitted-or more like, the scent's growing stronger! Shit! It stinks!"

To Momonga, whose sense of smell was nonexistent at best, he thanked his undead trait again. He could see that Peroroncino and Ulbert were once again more affected by it.

Still, he knew it wasn't the time to feel flippant about the situation. Looking coldly at the situation, technically they were just people arriving at a scene where something like aliens (the pig-men) were killing and eating other people.

"Everyone..." he called their attention. "What do we do about-" He gestured to all the pig-men.

"Kill them," said Chagama-san promptly.

"No, that would be too much. We cannot condemn them based on small evidence," said Touch Me. "This one didn't manage to reveal anything concrete."

"I'm sure we can if we could-" Ulbert stopped, looking at Touch Me, then at Momonga. Then Ulbert shook his head. "Never mind."

There was a question mark in Momonga's head at that.

"Yeah, nee-san, we can't just kill these guys, even if they're total bastards..." said Peroroncino.

"You saw them! They were eating these guys! And were probably about to eat those others they killed!"

"Yeah!" agreed Herohero. "Let's finish them!"

While Peroroncino wavered, Ulbert rejoined, saying, "As I said, let's not be too hasty."

"Hoh. It's a surprise, hearing that from the 'bloodthirstiest' guy in the guild," said Touch Me.

Ulbert snorted. "It's nothing as noble as 'because they might be innocent', believe me. But think, you two," he addressed the two slimes. "Suppose we kill them, and somehow word comes back to these ones' superiors? And then we find out later that they're from the majority powers in this world. They'll get pissed. That'll make our lives here harder. Though," he added after a chuckle. "I sure welcome the challenge."

"So what you're saying is... play it safe?" asked Momonga.

"Just think: imagine we were back in Japan, and we receive word that six cow-shaped aliens have killed the people in the slaughterhouse, thus freeing the cows there. What would we think? What would the government think?"

"We'd be hunted down. Special Forces. Pew pew," said Peroroncino, shooting an imaginary gun.

"That's why, in my opinion, for now we cool our heads and assess the situation better. If later on, these creatures really are evil bastards, then..." Ulbert's smile didn't need further words.

"Hmm. This is one of those rare occasions where I agree with Ulbert-san for once. And what's more, we also agree as to reasons. We don't have enough information on this world yet." Touch Me raised his hand, as if making a vow. "I vote not to kill them."

"I vote we do," said Chagama-san.

"Yeah, we should," said Herohero.

"I vote no," said Ulbert.

"No," said Peroroncino. He glanced worriedly at his sister.

They all looked at Momonga. He felt a tiny bit of pressure. With his vote, they could tie it for an impasse, or he'd push the motion for sparing them. Still, he shared Ulbert and Touch Me's caution.

"I vote no. Thus the decision is: we spare the pig-men," Momonga announced. He sighed. He saw Chagama-san and Herohero-san frowning, though they nodded in acceptance when the rest looked at them.

"What should we do with them then?" said Chagama-san.

"That doesn't need a vote," said Touch Me. "But it would be prudent to take away their weapons." He nodded at Herohero. "And this would be a good chance to see if your equipment melting ability is still intact."

"I'll do one better. I want to see if it's possible to [Consume] them."

It was. There was a faint satisfaction-and wonder-coming from everyone as they witnessed the yakuza reach out and gobble up gear like he was doing a simple magician trick.

"Yuck!"

"What's wrong?"

Herohero's face twisted, like he'd eaten something sour. "All their equipment tastes bad. And it's really sour, like milk gone bad. Yeesh."

"Well, they were just pigs," said Ulbert. "Probably low level, if we were talking Yggdrasil levels..."

Momonga, Bukubukuchagama and Touch Me moved on to looking over at the corpses of the humans.

"Do we...?" Momonga said, trailing off, though everyone knew what the question was.

Resurrection. At the back of their minds, there was that concern. They obviously could not test it by themselves. But in a world as realistic as this, such magic couldn't just be considered lightly.

If they could, then they had no fear of death. Everyone here had resurrection abilities, whether from a consumable item or their abilities.

But was it really right to use them?

"No." This time, Touch Me's voice was firm, like there was steel behind them. "I can... tell that they've lived hard lives. They deserve their rest."

"Maybe they deserve it," asked Chagama-san. "But was it right to take away their choice? Maybe they'd prefer to live."

Touch Me made a harrumphing sound. "We cannot do such magics lightly. The implications alone-"

"Think of it this way, sis," said Peroroncino. "Going back to Ulbert-san's explanation, do we really need to show we can make cows out of hamburgers?"

Chagama-san glared at her brother. "Then, if we preserve-"

"No. This is no longer a game, respectfully, Chagama-kun." Touch Me's way of talking had changed. Usually, he referred to everyone in the guild as an equal, but now he was asserting his place as a somewhat older man. "If you insist, I shall have to do everything in my power to stop you."

"What? You better hold your horses, old man!" said Peroroncino, who drew his weapon.

"Touch Me-san!" Momonga shouted. Already, Touch Me looked like he was really going to start attacking. He was emitting a bad feeling- _was this like killing intent?_

Touch Me grunted. He stood, then walked away.

Momonga stared after him. He could not believe he was seeing a different aspect to his longtime friend.

"Well, Chagama-san, I have a compromise," said Ulbert. "I can cast [Preserve Corpse] to put them in a 'stasis'. Their corpses will remain fresh. So later, if we need to, we can just resurrect them, as you wanted."

"Ulbert-san..."

Ulbert shook his head. "It shames me to admit it, but I also agree with Touch Me-san again. But the sooner we get a better picture, the sooner we can think better on what we can do while we wait."

 _Waiting to be brought back to reality_ , was left unsaid. Momonga certainly still banked on being able to return.

Thanks to Ulbert's intercession, the corpses were put in stasis, then buried in elaborate coffins that Chagama-san conjured.

They then made a sort of mound, which Momonga enchanted with a variety of long-lasting illusions. One spell would alert him if someone stumbled onto the burial site.

Herohero finished by marking the area with a rune using an item.

The six of them stood before the makeshift grave-site.

Some had their heads bowed.

An intense look burned on Chagama-san's and Herohero-san's face.

Ulbert and Touch Me were inscrutable, the latter even more so because of the paper bag mask.

Peroroncino was the one who looked upset, and he was sure it would have been on his own face, were it not for his undead trait.

"Then, our next step is to leave this forest. We know there's civilization somewhere. We've got to make contact, and find out the whole truth."

After a lot of debate, they chose to move west.

It was because Peroroncino thought he could see something in the distance.

* * *

The nightmares plagued her for days.

Thanks to the disastrous experience, Nemu did not stay in one place for too long.

She moved through the forest, living off freshly caught animals. There was no time to cook them over a fire.

She always made sure to stay clear off the west, where their campsite had been.

In that direction also lay the Great Tomb of Nazarick.

She still kept the red potion with her. A small part of her, though long weary of betrayal and suffering, trusted in that white warrior.

Then, one morning, she vaguely heard footsteps in her sleep.

She was instantly on guard, her daggers ready to intercept. She looked around, trying to assess where the sound came from.

"Oh, if it isn't Nemu-sama. Good day."

At that sudden voice, Nemu screamed. After she whirled around, heart thudding, she relaxed.

In fact, she even collapsed, in relief, falling to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

It was an old man, radiating an aura of nobility. But behind that was an iron will, as straight and sharp as his posture.

"Oh? Are you alright, Nemu-sama?"

Sebas Tian. The Coward. The Traitor. Enemy of Humanity.

They had many epithets for him. They were words spouted since that fateful day years ago.

Uttered by humans defeated after a long, gruelling war.

But she, who had met the man herself, knew the truth. She understood.

She smiled at him. Even years later, he looked largely unchanged. He was unblemished, like a venerable figure inside a painting.

While she-was this useless wreck of a human.

She could feel his strong hands holding her.

"Ah... if Sebas-sama is here, I must be in heaven..."

Sebas' laugh was like a rumbling thunder. "What are you talking about? You are alive, Nemu-sama. Though, I can tell you are exhausted. Hm?"

She heard something like glass falling to the ground.

"This is... A healing potion from that place..? Wait, but that would mean..! Nemu-sama, where did you get this from? Nemu-sama?"

It was a disgrace. She shouldn't have surrendered herself like this-there were enemies about...

But for some reason, she could no longer see Sebas.

Ah, am I dying?

"Nemu-sama? Oh, my. Still, where could she have-But no, it can't be..."

* * *

 **Guild Brokerage "The Burning Eye" dossier**

 **Momonga**

Alignment: Extreme Evil (exact level unknown)

Race:

Skeleton Mage, Skeleton King, Elder Lich, Overlord

Jobs:

Necromancer, Master of Death, Eclipse (?)

Mythic:

Sorcerer King, Ancient Sage (?)

Bonus:

God of Unlife

Comments: As per guidelines, classes with a question mark are to be treated as uncertain info. As the Guildmaster of [Ainz Ooal Gown], his killing potential is a solid S. In order to kill him or her, a good force of people with S threat level is needed, while also using favorable conditions. As undead, holy-magic users will have an advantage. Since he is a deity, be warned of sudden guild ambush via teleportation if spotted alone. [Ainz Ooal Gown] have used similar baiting tactics multiple times in the past. Is a known cash item user.

* * *

 **Shurpuff says: Thanks for reading! Any comments appreciated! And more to come.  
**


	3. Nazarick?

Deep in the forest, a solitary man walked.

Upon closer inspection, this one appeared to be well-dressed. Its clothes hinted at its profession-a butler.

Normally, one would look askance at the sight of a butler walking alone in this place. This one was so out of place, like a black blotch on a perfectly white wall.

But no one would ever think that way. Not in this place.

The butler was wholly alone in this forest.

Once, this had been a thriving place. Filled with all manners of life, from the lowest bug to giant ogres. There had even been a strange, venerable creature here once, but there was no sign of it now.

This butler knew why. He'd been there, after all.

 _At the very beginning-_

No, he shouldn't think on that now.

Now, this one's existence was of a dying ember. In the past twenty years he'd only experienced failure after failure, as everything crumbled before his eyes.

Now he can only go back to the beginning-back to the very foundation of his existence.

Now, Sebas Tian was the Great Tomb Nazarick's butler, and nothing more.

It was both penance and duty. He who had let himself lapse, in more ways than one-

Therefore, he must carry this punishment by himself, in the place of those who could not bring that punishment down.

Sometimes, he'd leave the vast halls of his makers, to get a breath of fresh air.

But he'd only limit himself to the "Dread Forest", never going beyond.

Such lonely walks helped to soothe his soul.

"Hm?"

He felt a strange disturbance. There was a faint sound coming from somewhere, which his keen hearing caught. But it seemed to be so far...

He scaled the nearest tree. With his skills, it was as natural as if he were a squirrel.

Peering up over the canopy, flashes of light caught his eye in one direction.

He narrowed his eyes.

Over there, so far in the distance, looked like some fireballs exploding. That was not natural.

So, someone else must be in this forest. Someone who can cast that spell. But who?

Some stray demon? Was it a scouting party from one of the fell kingdoms?

Or was it... humans? The moment he thought that, his pace quickened.

* * *

For a while, everyone walked in total silence.

Then: "Is that the first time you've killed, right?"

That was Touch Me, addressing Herohero.

It seemed that the former had been watching the latter stare at his hand, as if recalling the blood that had been there.

"We should probably leave that aside, Touch Me-san," said Peroroncino. He looked uncomfortable. "I mean..."

"Understood. But if Herohero-san happens to have a problem, then please don't hesitate to call on me. I may not be a licensed therapist, but I do have the limitless patience to listen to people's problems."

"Have you killed, then, Touch Me-san?" Ulbert asked shrewdly. "I'm getting that kind of feeling from you."

"Hmph. I'm sorry, but that's classified," said Touch Me.

"Classified? Is it really that serious of a matter?" Momonga said.

"I thank you for your offer, Touch Me-san," said Herohero. "Please be assured that I will think on that proposal."

He bowed, and Touch Me bowed in turn.

Touch Me made a sound like he was breathing out a loud sigh. "Very good, then."

It was in that time that they reached the end of the forest. There had been a gradual lessening in the volume of trees. Then, everyone spotted a grassy area, devoid of trees, just ahead.

The party stepped on the imaginary border between the forest and this new area. Looking around, they finally were able to appreciate the blue sky. For a moment, it seemed like their breaths had been stolen away. Even Ulbert looked contemplative as he regarded the sea of green.

Peroroncino took a deep breath. "It all smells so clean. And fresh. It's... strange."

They had never smelled anything like it before. In their reality, in the world they left behind, the skies were filled with so much pollution that it was a miracle to see a hint of blue, or the pure sunlight. Their noses had also been frozen by the scent of the disinfectants used to clean offices, or the heavy scents used by co-workers.

Touch Me bent down to touch the waving blades of grass. There was a faint breeze coming from somewhere.

They all looked at each other. After that intense confrontation in the forest, this little break of peace and beauty was... freeing. People broke into smiles and genuine laughs. Momonga couldn't help but feel joyful, well, before the undead trait took over.

Chagama-san abruptly lay down on the grass. Then she began to roll left and right.

"... What are you doing, nee-san? You're getting yourself dirty-you're not a kid anymore."

"But onii-chan, Kazechin wants to lie down~~ Kazechin wants to lie on a big, comfy bed, and sleep all day~"

"Ahh... now that you mention it, that sounds nice... But slime or not, you still shouldn't be rolling around on the grass, nee-san. Wait, wow that sounded really erotic..."

"What was that, little brother?"

"... Nothing."

On the other side, Ulbert was chewing on a blade of grass.

"So, does it taste good, or...?" said Herohero.

Ulbert spat the grass out. "Feh."

Momonga stared over the sea of green, to a great shape in the distance. It was the thing that Peroroncino had spotted. From here, it looked like a mountain, but it was shaped a little differently.

"I wonder what that is?" he said.

Hearing him, Touch Me went to the Peroroncino arguing with his sister, and pointed at the thing in the distance.

"It's not a mountain," said Peroroncino, his face squinting. He had activated an [Eye] skill. "It's... It kind of looks like a building. Like a structure... a big structure."

"Could it be a town of sorts?"

"I couldn't tell you. I mean, I'm not seeing anything moving over there. Well, from this spot, I seem to be only seeing a part of it. It seems to be bigger than what we're seeing."

"A structure... well, it's a fair shot it's man-made," said Touch Me.

"Or pig-man-made," said Ulbert, his eyebrows raised.

"If there are people, there's a chance they can spot us moving through the plains."

"Long-ranged divination?"

Magic casters had spells equivalent to Peroroncino's long-ranged [Eye] skills. In a sense, they were more powerful, but also had its disadvantages. For example, magical counter-measures over an area would immediately trigger, giving the diviner a bad day.

"Nah, we can't risk it," said Ulbert.

"How about making a scouting eye?"

"That'd take too long. Let's just go over there ourselves."

"Then, should we move under an illusion?" asked Momonga.

"Combine it with another of those mass transport skills too," said Chagama-san. "I'm dead on my feet. Slime-feet or whatever."

Chagama-san's [Puff Puff Flyer] was one of her many customized spells, which used a basic spell as a template. It was similar to the [Cloudstrider] which Ulbert had conjured earlier, only now the platform made of clouds was colored pink. It also emitted sparkling effects occasionally. It looked like something a magical girl would use in the fight for justice. But despite its flashy looks, it actually had a few protective enchantments.

As they began to cruise over the plains, Peroroncino was appointed the look-out for any changes in their destination. Then Momonga used one of his [Glamour Area] spells to mask their approach.

As they flew, the wind whipped through their bodies. Momonga felt the wind pass through the holes in his skeletal face, though he didn't feel too discomfited by it. He stared into the distance anxiously, and wondered what was waiting for them.

When they looked to be halfway through, Herohero suddenly cried, "Stop!"

The abrupt call made the pink cloud platform screech to a halt. This also made them stumble on each other, like a group of marionettes with their strings cut.

Before anyone could say anything, Herohero continued, "I think there's a trap right before us. My passive's kicking in."

As one who usually took on the Seeker role in Yggdrasil, Herohero had a number of abilities that were chosen for finding, detecting, and potentially disarming the many traps in the game. These ranged from the simple mines under the ground to the elaborate runes a skilled magic caster laid over an area.

"What type is it?" Chagama-san asked.

"I can't really tell... Without the UI I'm just relying on my gut feeling... However, because of my passives, I can safely say it's a psychic trap, a leyline tripwire, or a Divine Secret. I don't have the levels for those." He pointed to the ground. "And it's big. Really big. I can feel it right over there."

"[Sense Divine]," Momonga said. A second later, he shook his head. "It's nothing Divine."

"So it's either a psychic trap or the other one... Well, Momonga-san is immune to all high-level mind-affecting so we should be fine," said Touch Me.

"And if we all end up mind controlled?" asked Ulbert. "We'd slaughter Momonga-san-unless he's got something up his sleeve."

Momonga made a "no no" wave with his hands. Though he couldn't suppress the feeling of apprehension; if they all ganged up on him, he'd never be able to survive. Even as a Deity, he was still just Momonga-san.

"And if it's a leyline tripwire, who knows what'll come out?" said Peroroncino. Everyone remembered when Warrior Takemikazuchi and Wish III had unwittingly triggered one of the new traps in the reboot-there had been two other guilds in the vicinity, and ever since they hadn't stopped vowing retribution on [Ainz Ooal Gown]. That was not to mention some people in the guild bitterly complaining about having to regrind mythic levels.

"What if it's something completely unknown?" Herohero wondered.

"Everyone," Momonga said, calling their attention. "Perhaps it'd be good to use a minion for this."

"Ahh, yes, of course-Momonga-shi's patented technique," said Chagama-san, using a rare variation of her loli voice.

"Hah. We quibbled for a useless moment there, when we had the solution right in our midst." Touch Me shook his head.

"Minion disarm" was relatively simple on the surface. During any sort of situation in Yggdrasil when Momonga suspected a trap, he'd just send an undead minion forward to trigger it, leaving him and his party relatively safe. Since the undead were cheap to make for someone specced like him, there was relatively little downside.

Occasionally, there'd be level-specific traps that would not trigger for anyone under a certain level threshold, but there were usually Seekers on-hand to make a more thorough search.

"[Summon Lesser Undead], huh... Or should it be a higher tier one?" Momonga wondered. While he was considering which spell to use, the implications of actually casting it unsettled him. In the game, it was an iconic spell that underlined his choice of dream spec-but in this world, would it be a sort of heresy?

The part of him that was Suzuki Satoru felt a little apprehensive.

However, another part was excited to cast it.

"[Summon Lesser Undead]! Skeleton Hunter!" Momonga announced, pointing to the ground. The party held its breath as a dark sludgy substance began to emerge from the ground. Momonga's lower jaw opened in awe.

In Yggdrasil, the effects, though flashy, had been simple: a dark skull picture forming, then the air rippling, then the NPC arriving, out of thin air.

Now, the black sludge rose, and a shape vaguely took form. A moment later, the sludge receded, as smoke vaguely forming a skull rose, then dissipated in the air. What was left was a skeleton garbed in the livery of an archer, wielding a bow in hand.

For what seemed like eternity, the six of them just stared. Momonga glanced through the corner of his eyes and saw that everyone was staring at the new skeleton with something like shock. Or was it fear?

"Wow..."

"A real skeleton..."

"Undead. So, it's possible for other..."

Touch Me made a sighing sound. "Impressive. To think they'd go all the way, like this-"

"Momonga-san, how is it on your end?" Ulbert asked.

Momonga frowned. Now that he'd gotten over the skeleton's appearance, he felt that there was something strange in his mind. Like there was an invisible string connecting him to somewhere, which he somehow instinctively knew was actually connected to the skeleton in front of them. He related this to the others.

"That's probably how the summoning magic works," Chagama-san said. "Can you give it commands?"

"Eh, er..." Momonga concentrated. _Move over there_ , he thought. The skeleton shuddered. A second later, it had turned, making a clacking sound. Then it obeyed, walking over to where Momonga had indicated.

"It's a success," Momonga said faintly.

"Ooohh!"

"...Can you make it do something else? Can you make it shoot my idiot brother?"

"What."

"It's fine, that thing's so far under your level. Try to aim for the crotch."

"Nee-san!"

"Well, alright. Aim for the head."

"That's not any better."

"Your headslot's got a ton of defense, you'll be fine."

"That's not the issue here-"

"Um... well... shouldn't it be fine to just go on?" Momonga whispered to the others, preferring not to side with either sibling.

"... Yes, I think that would be best," said Touch Me, nodding.

Their attention returned to the skeleton. After a moment's hesitation, Momonga prodded the skeleton forward.

"Trap triggered!" said Herohero, after the skeleton had run some distance. His passive had activated yet again. His slime body quivered like firm jelly.

"Ready positions!" Chagama-san cried, an oft-repeated response. In that instant, everyone closed ranks, in a formation that protected Momonga and Ulbert. The two casters began to charge up a spell.

A moment later, they cancelled the spell.

Nothing had happened.

The skeleton still stood there, over where the trap trigger should have been.

In the preceding moment, it should have been hit by a bunch of trap effects. But the grass only swayed gently. And the skeleton just stood there.

"N-nothing..?"

"Hum... that's strange," said Touch Me. "Could it be a delayed effect?"

"I'm sorry, everyone," said Herohero. "If only I'd specced to be a better Seeker-"

"It's fine, Herohero-san," said Peroroncino. "In the first place, we weren't expecting this kind of situation. Punitto Moe-san couldn't have predicted _this_."

It was true that Herohero was not the best of Seekers. In most other situations, he was an attacker. During PKing, he used his new assassin skills to find strong enemies in a melee, and then suddenly destroy their equipment.

The guild's "proper" Seekers had means of viewing the exact structure of traps. In this situation, they might've seen its exact location, how it looked, how large it was, and could even determine its effects.

"Shit! I hope it's not a really evil leyline trip," said Peroroncino, looking around with suspicion.

"That is assuming those shitty devs made this world," said Ulbert.

"Well, since it seems safe, let's continue one. With a bit more caution, of course," said Touch Me.

"What'll we do with him?" said Chagama-san, pointing to the skeleton.

"Dismissing him should be fine," said Momonga. He particularly wanted to test the "dismiss" function-usually it was done through the UI.

Concentrating, he tried severing the line connecting his mind to the skeleton.

"Oh." The instant he did, the skeleton collapsed into a pile of bones. It, along with its weapons, rapidly turned into dust. Then, a wind came from somewhere that blew the dust away.

"Another success," Momonga muttered. The more he discovered about this new world, the more it excited him.

It also scared him.

"Moving on," announced Chagama-san, "With caution. Thank you everyone-Momonga-san, Herohero-san, good work~~"

The Puff Puff flyer continued on its way.

* * *

Some time later, Sebas came across Nemu Emmot.

At a glance, he saw her condition to be alarming-underfed, exhausted, dehydrated-but nothing a good meal and rest wouldn't fix.

She was still coherent, which was a good sign. He had seen too many humans who, even if they were perfectly alive, already had their minds flown off to a distant land.

For the time being, he used some Ki to heal her superficial wounds.

Then, something dropped from her waist.

Sebas didn't pay attention at first, but he did a double take when he saw what it was.

A red potion?

He did not know why such a sight made the hair on his back rise. The little bottle emitted a bad feeling, as if it were a cursed item.

Then, his mind put two and two together.

All potions in this world were blue-or a shade derived from the color.

Red-on the other hand-was a facet of "that" world.

So did that mean-?

Nemu had already fainted before she could answer his questions.

Shouldering the limp body of one of the few humans he personally knew, Sebas began the return to Nazarick.

He did quick jumps through the trees, careful to keep Nemu's head still. The only concern now was if an enemy impeded him.

But of course, such a concern was laughable. No one ever came to this "Dread Forest" but desperate humans-

 _Or the ones who hunted them._

Suddenly, like a chime, something rang in Sebas' mind. The sensation had come so abruptly that he too stopped, frozen in the midst of a jump. An observer would have concluded he was about to jump off the diving board into the pool.

"Intruders...?" Sebas muttered. His brows furrowed.

Someone had triggered the basic alarm system that was keyed to Nazarick. As head butler, he was given control over its functions.

Someone or something had stepped into its area uninvited. Sebas wondered if they were more humans like Nemu.

He had to return to Nazarick posthaste.

* * *

The Great Tomb of Nazarick.

In the old Yggdrasil, it was home to [Ainz Ooal Gown]. It was a guild base like no other.

Forty-one people had worked hard to make it their own. Designing, building, creating the environment, the atmosphere, and the NPCs that were to inhabit it. It could be said that they had poured their souls into its very existence.

It was a status symbol of one of the top guilds in old Yggdrasil. No one had ever conquered it.

In the reboot, Momonga managed to reform the old guild. For months they were on the lookout for any information on their old guild base. There was no guarantee it would be in the same location as in the old game.

Much of the people had already returned to the base level cap of 100 when they got wind of a guild using a tomb for a base. When they investigated further, they found that it was exactly as Nazarick had been-a sunken tomb with a lot of floors in the depths.

It had already been claimed.

The guild owning it had given it a new name. Worse, they'd had it for a long time, so their defenses had already been long set up.

All of them were disappointed. Plus, a few were angered, and even convinced them to organize a raid, to recapture their rightful home.

It ended in a near disaster. Only Whitebrim's quick thinking prevented a full party kill, which would of course have tarnished their reputations as "unbeatable".

An embarrassing retreat, and one which sparked many an heated discussion within the guild. It was agreed that they would retake Nazarick, but only after a long time of planning and preparing. They obviously could not bring in more people for a temporary alliance. They had to rely on the skills of forty-one.

In the meantime, Momonga became a god, and they used his [Domain] as their new, temporary base.

It should be mentioned that their plan to make more Deities of their mates had been one of their stepping stones towards this goal.

Still, Momonga's Nazarick wasn't the great tomb. No matter how convenient it was, or how practical the [Domain]'s system, it wasn't home. Home, for [Ainz Ooal Gown], was Nazarick. It would always be Nazarick.

Momonga himself cradled a burning desire for the old base. Nazarick was the lover one had thought dead, only to end up hanging on some other's arm.

For Momonga, Nazarick was more than the goal, it was the ideal. His experience in Yggdrasil Mk. 2 was incomplete without it.

Which was why he wondered now-

In this new world where nothing made sense-

"Why is Nazarick here?" he yelled. His bewildered eyes beheld the familiar path to the even more familiar sprawl of cemetery, then on to the misted shapes of statues further in.

"Ooooohhh..." The rest also looked on in shock.

"No, it's probably a coincidence," said Touch Me, though the tone in his voice didn't seem convinced.

At first, when they rounded the structure, the only thing that stuck out to them was that it looked fairly out of place in the area. For example, there was no road leading to it, giving it an isolated atmosphere. Then, they went to the front, and were immediately afflicted with deja vu.

Then, they had gotten closer. Then they could no longer deny what they saw with their own eyes.

"It's got to be!" Peroroncino said, looking around the area. "It just looks the same, it can't be..." He pointed to the grassy plains. "I mean... in the game, we found it in that snowy area. And in the first Yggdrasil, wasn't it a swamp?"

Momonga's whole form shook, rattling his skeletal frame. His mind went through a lot of emotions one by one, each not reaching the point where he was cooled by his undead trait. Thus, he felt that there was rolling magma beneath his surface.

Unable to contain his feelings anymore, he ran forward.

"Ah, Momonga-san, wait!" said Chagama-san.

"Ahh, don't lose your head, Guildmaster," said Ulbert. They all followed Momonga up the slope to the initial area.

Momonga could no longer feel tired. But when the grand mausoleum at the center got closer, he slowly sank to his knees. The sight robbed him of speech.

His eyes fell on the dust sticking to his robe. He grabbed a fistful of dirt, and felt it pass like water through his fingerbones.

"Real..."

Behind him, the others examined the headstones scattered like rotten teeth across the graveyard. Peroroncino passed his hand over the marble. He shuddered at its smoothness.

"A cross..." Ulbert muttered, eyeing a particularly shaped headstone. "Maybe those pig-men...? Nah, it couldn't be. A cross doesn't prove anything..."

"Um... Chagama-san," said Herohero. "I didn't want to say it again, but this place is very familiar. It's-"

"You're not alone, Herohero-san," replied the other slime. "At this point, I'm just trying to make sure my mind's not going the way of this body..."

A sudden clatter of bones shattered the silence. Everyone except Momonga were instantly alerted, their gazes turning towards one of the crypts.

A number of skeletons emerged from within, each brandishing weapons.

Touch Me drew his sword and prepared his shield. Thanks to his sudden action, the others didn't just stand gaping and melted into a formation.

Though even in Touch Me's mind, the sight of skeletons walking so realistically, as if they were anatomy objects given life, was very surreal. Even the remake's better graphics couldn't compare to the real thing.

"Momonga-san! Get a hold of yourself! Please identify now!"

Chagama-san's ringing shout brought Momonga out of his reverie, even for a little bit. He staggered to his feet, his eyes now taking in the enemy skeletons. He barely got over marveling at their forms for a moment before his mind recalled the task.

"[Discern Enemy]," he announced. He pointed at the enemies. With this spell he could identify the enemy's level. It had worked on the vermin they'd encountered before, where they had registered as Level 1.

For a tense moment, there was silence.

"Well? Momonga-san?" Chagama-san asked. She was not alone in waiting with bated breath for his answer. If it was a strong enemy-

"Level 1," he said. From all the surprises he'd experienced, even this one no longer fazed him.

"What."

"What?"

There was a chorus of cries.

"[Discern]!" Ulbert cast his own spell. A moment later, he guffawed. "Level 1? Seriously? Shit, my knees were trembling just now from these things."

The others laughed, part relief, part hysteria. As Chagama-san muttered, they really didn't know what was going on anymore.

The skeletons approached, raising their weapons. They converged on the nearest, who was Touch Me.

"Hmmm..." Touch Me flicked his finger at the head of one. It immediately dispersed into dust.

It wasn't just the skeletal frame crumbling into smaller pieces, then disintegrating further into dust.

No.

One second, skeleton; the next, dust.

The next, nothing.

But of course, that was to be expected of Level 1 creatures.

The skeletons began to wail at Touch Me's body with their weapons. He stood, feeling no discomfort or pain. It felt rather like the grass outside, caressing him.

Peroroncino stepped close to one of them, then blew-it was a minor breath skill, more to blind close-ranged attackers. Against a max-level player, it was only useful as a goodbye kiss before the killing blow.

Several of the skeletons that were hit became dust.

Ulbert grabbed the head of one, wrenching it from its spine. The rest of the body became dust. He considered the skull. Shrugging, he tried placing it in his item box; and it got in.

The last one Herohero swallowed whole. He blanched, as he did with the pig-men's weapons. "Low-tier crap."

"If the shitty devs were here, I'd curse them," said Ulbert.

"I'll still curse them, eh?" said Peroroncino. "Shitty devs!" he shouted, at the top of his lungs. The whole graveyard seemed to ring with his voice.

"So much for that encounter," said Chagama-san. "Wonder if we got experience?"

As the others joked and discussed the weak undead group, Momonga was looking towards the mausoleum. He didn't know why the others continued to ignore the fact staring them in the face.

 _This was Nazarick._

There can be no doubt in Momonga's mind.

He, who had spent the most time here, out of everyone in the guild. He had worked hard to maintain it, even in solitude, even while the rest of the guild slipped back into the cracks of reality.

Just as a person might feel a touch of familiarity with a dog long thought lost; so did Momonga feel like he'd just reunited with a lost love, as he looked upon the desolate graveyard.

So, without thinking, he rushed up to the steps leading further in.

"Huh? Oh, Momonga-san! Wait up!" The others, not missing his sudden movement, followed suit. Peroroncino flew up, reaching Momonga just as he reached the top of the stairs.

"What's wrong, Momonga-san?" asked Peroroncino.

"It's Nazarick," said Momonga, seizing the other's shoulder. "It's Nazarick, Peroroncino-san! Don't you see?"

"Eh? Well... maybe, but we can't really be sure of it-"

"I'm sure of it!" Momonga cried, disregarding the other man's words, and walked inside the mausoleum.

The others caught up in the meantime.

"What's going on? What did he say?" asked Touch Me.

"Never mind that, let's just follow him! Who knows what other things are inside here?" said Chagama-san.

Needing no further discussion, they followed after Momonga's advancing back.

By the way, they were moving in a good formation for dungeon exploration, Seeker in front, and the Wildcard bringing up the rear.

"What's with Momonga-san?" asked Herohero, who oozed after the skeleton.

"He thinks this is Nazarick," replied Peroroncino. "But I'm not really sure why he's freaking out."

"But if this is Nazarick, why aren't there any traps?" Ulbert wondered. "The Nazarick I knew wasn't this forgiving to a small group of intruders. Even level 100s would be squashed."

"If this is Nazarick, what the heck is it doing all the way out here?" Chagama-san added. "Did Yggdrasil just dump its old data here or something? Is this world just part of the game, after all?"

"Everyone, wouldn't this be solved if-oof!"

Herohero had bumped into Momonga-san, who'd suddenly stopped running. His slime nature cushioned Touch Me who was just behind, though Ulbert and Peroroncino got squashed together in the narrow corridor.

"What's going on?" asked Chagama-san.

"Eh, it's Momonga-san who stopped... Why, what's-oh."

The others managed to squeeze past Momonga's sides, fanning out into the open area beyond the corridor.

Their eyes were glued to one spot.

Ahead of them stood an old man wearing a butler uniform. His form was straight and poised, like a steel blade embedded into the ground.

"Isn't that...?" Momonga breathed.

"Greetings, humans." Its measured voice echoed in the small chamber. "Though it might be rude for me to say so: please leave the Great Tomb of Nazarick. This is no place for ones like you."

"Eh? Isn't it? Eh?"

"It's talking...?"

Everyone glanced at the half-naked man wearing a paperbag over his head. His expression was indiscernible.

"Now," continued the butler, still speaking in a polite manner. "I shall give you only one warning, intruders. Leave now, or I shall have to dispose of you."

A moment of stunned silence. Then-

"Sebas... Tian...?" Touch Me whispered.

* * *

To Momonga,

Congratulations on becoming a god! The title [God of Unlife] has thus been bestowed upon you. With this title comes the unbreakable World Items: [Third Staff of Eljudnir], [Hourglass of Purgatory], [Dead Meridia], [Saronite Soul], [Lidless Eye], [Sigil of the Maimed God]. Additionally, we have also appended a little manual that will outline the different functions and spells which you (and your guild) can now access.

As a God, your possibilites have been expanded. Yet still you are tasked with defending your title to the death. Should you be slain in combat, the winning player shall acquire your title. The World items, plus all other benefits, shall also be transferred.

Good luck in your adventures in the new Yggdrasil, new god-san! As always, worlds of opportunity await.

Regards,  
Yggdrasil Developer Group

* * *

 **Shurpuff says: Originally much longer, due to dialogue that has now been cut.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading! Comments welcome.  
**

 **More to come.**


	4. The Butler of Steel

To wake from nightmares of dark, dreadful places, and then wake to a place which was dark, cold and yes dreadful, was very unpleasant for Nemu Emmot.

Yes, she screamed; that was a matter of course.

Then, the rush of memories came to her, making her relax. _That's right, the last thing I remember, is meeting Sebas-sama._ And then...? That was a blank. She patted her body. There was nothing strange there, so she was relieved.

Her eyes wandered over to the side of the room. There lay her daggers, plus the bottle that the white warrior had given her.

She tried to sit up; but only ended up groaning when she felt the soreness in her whole body. _This is no good_ , she thought. _I can't fight like this_. Though it looked like she was in a safe location, that was no guarantee. In her experience, danger lurked around every corner, and behind every shadow.

Still, she felt that she had to properly thank Sebas-sama for taking care of her. And at the very least, she trusted the great man not to have taken her to anywhere strange, or put her in any danger.

She moved, despite her body's protests-she took her gear from the floor, then walked out of the room. Out in the hall, she put a hand to the wall to steady herself, then began to walk, one step at a time. Every step was agony; but what else was new?

The halls were dim, though she couldn't be sure where the small light came from. There were no torches on the walls, nor anything magical-looking that might've cast [Continuous Light]. The whole place had the feeling of disuse, though it looked fairly clean.

Sounds of talking came to her ears, making her pause. She could vaguely recognize one of them as Sebas-sama's. Thinking that, she quickened her pace, turning the last corner to find-

She gasped, so loudly her voice bounced off the walls. Her body couldn't help but collapse to the ground, like a puppet with its strings cut. She reached for her dagger. She was breathing hard and fast, but the fear gripped her mercilessly, making her unable to stand.

 _No... No..._

In front of her stood Sebas-sama. That was normal. He stood at a spot in the room some distance away from her.

But what shocked her was not Sebas.

No, what had made her knees weak were the ones that faced Sebas.

First was the towering alabaster colossus whom she'd met at the forest. Back then she had not really been paying attention; but here, in the dimly lit room, its pure white form radiated an unreal light, a light so pure it could not have belonged in this world.

But it wasn't alone now.

Behind it were terrifying forms. Creatures which could only have been dredged from the most horrifying nightmares.

There was a figure clad in armor. Its face had a beak, like a bird's, and it sprouted a set of wings from its back. Every ridge and surface on its armor bristled like dragon's teeth. It reeked of absolute danger, like a large, terrifying predator that could devour her at a whim.

Next to it was a sinister figure in a black, caped suit, with a head like an ox or a goat. Long, sinister claws shaped like scimitars extended from its fingers. Its teeth were bared in the violent parody of a smile. The brutality of its features was in sharp contrast to its extravagant clothes.

Then there were the two monstrous things beside it. "Things" was perhaps the best way to describe them. They were like puddles of mud snaking up from the ground. Their forms continued to churn and drip like water.

One was black as tar, like a mass of ink given life. It seemed to blend with the shadows in the room. She could well imagine the terror of meeting it alone during a silent, moonless night, when even the stars would fear being swallowed by the endless dark.

The other was lighter, amber-like in color. It glowed, like a roomful of precious jewels of all colors had been melted together, then given life. There was an aura of grandiosity emanating from it; its peerless luster enough to make one kneel and swear eternal worship.

Then there was the last one, who loomed behind the rest like a fell shadow summoned from the deepest pits of the netherworld. The universal symbol for danger and death-for humans at least-its skull radiated a certain majesty which radiated the purest promise of rest eternal. Death given form, ready to purge this plane.

Red flames, perhaps used in judging the unworthy, burned in its eye-sockets.

And then those flames turned her way. For a moment, its gaze seemed to lick at her very being, baring everything about her to it, every secret, every fear, every sin; until she would only be left naked, and afraid.

Then the thing's lower jaw fell down, as if the skull were about to swallow her soul.

"Hiii..."

She wanted to scream, but her voice was frozen in her throat.

* * *

Sebas felt their presences approach the entrance to the Great Tomb. Six, by his count. And human, though-

Something about them seemed off. Curious.

He decided to wait at the antechamber, before the crossroads that led into the further levels. If there was even the slightest chance that they could penetrate to the deepest level, the hallowed chambers of the Supreme Beings... no, it would be better to silence them here, now.

He got a good look at them before long. Surprisingly, a magic caster took the lead. From what he remembered of adventurer groupings, it was usually a rogue or an ironclad warrior who took point... well, it didn't really matter. Then came the motley group, which was a further surprise.

A half-naked man, with a strange mask over his head. A finely dressed man in a cape. A formally dressed woman. Ah, there was a musclebound figure, who looked to be the heavy lifter in this group. But then, inexplicably, came a little girl.

As he was created by the Supreme Beings to be the perfect butler, the shock didn't register in his face. Instead, he began sizing up this group, and was once more struck by their strange appearances.

An adventurer group would be better equipped than this. Well, the magic caster looked fairly competent, the large man looked like he was a monk, and there were weapons on the half-naked man's back. But there was no hint of armor, nor a talisman, nor rings of protection. In fact, the half-naked man should be shivering from the cold now.

And there was no excuse for bringing a child, no matter how useful she might be.

 _Could it be an illusion?_ Sebas focused, and found nothing. These humans were exactly as they seemed to be.

It was bizarre, for plenty of reasons. Chiefly, there should be no humans running around the world like this. And if they were, they wouldn't look this clean, their faces fresh and clean of dirt and worry, their backs upright and free from crippling fear. _They_ had all made sure that every trace of humanity had been entirely subjugated. So what were these humans doing here, if they were not adventurers?

Emissaries?

If any one of them wanted to send an emissary to him, they wouldn't send humans. They'd send a [Message], or actually send someone from their group, like a vampire or a demon, or one of Aura's pets.

Or could it be... Heroes? Long hidden, and only now emerging. Arriving too late, yes, but perhaps this was what fate had determined.

And yet, he did not get this sort of feeling from them. For instance, that little girl. Or the novice-looking magic caster. The nobleman looked more like the one they were escorting. The red-headed woman, in particular, had the same sly look as Demiurge had when he'd-

Sebas clenched his fist subconsciously. Using his iron will, he threw the recent thought of that thing to the back of his mind. He took a breath.

"Greetings humans," he announced, hoping to get a better read on these intruders. "Though it might be rude of me to say so: please leave the Great Tomb of Nazarick. This is no place for ones like you."

Where he'd expected them to get into a battle stance, or flee, he didn't expect them to just stand there.

"Eh? Isn't it? Eh?"

"It's talking...?"

Sebas narrowed his eyes. Their voices sounded strange, as if they were coming through an instrument-muddled, distorted. It almost reminded him of Entoma's true voice.

He noticed their looking at the half-naked man. Were they looking to him for guidance?

Sensing the silence about to stretch, Sebas continued, "Now, I shall give you only one warning intruders. Leave now, or I shall have to dispose of you."

Another silence.

Then, the masked man stepped forward. He didn't make any threatening moves, so Sebas stayed still.

"Sebas... Tian...?"

He shifted his stance, wary now. "Hm? I did not think I named myself to you, intruders. How did you come to know that name?"

"Are you... really Sebas Tian? Leader of the Pleiades? Head butler of... of..." The masked man glanced beside him, briefly, as if he were looking back at his companions. "Nazarick?"

"Spouting off familiar names will not endear yourself to me, intruder. Now, will you avail yourself the chance to leave here, alive? Otherwise, I should say that you shall all perish mercilessly for this grave sin."

The group did not respond for a while, though he did hear snatches of whispers from the back.

Then, the masked man walked forward, then said, "If it is really you, Sebas Tian, tell me, why is it you guarding this place? Surely there are other guardian-sama who are assigned here."

He felt like he was being baited for some unknown, sinister reason. "It is rude to question another's actions, is it not? Especially if one does not know the other-it only leads to needless conflict."

"Forgive me the rudeness then," the man replied, "And yet, I must ask more. Then, please let me confirm it: are you he who was created by Touch Me-"

Sebas moved in between the span of a second, too fast for the normal eye to spot. His movement was flawless, the heel of his foot shooting as from the mouth of a cannon; not at the most obvious target, the masked man, but for the one who seemed to be their leader-the magic caster.

But what his heel impacted was not the expected target, but the masked man's palm.

The shockwave from the contact generated a huge storm of wind. In that instant, Sebas disengaged, backflipping back to his initial position.

The masked man stood, seemingly unaffected. "Now that is rude: interrupting someone during a conversation. Please calm down, we do not wish to fight."

Sebas was not blind. He was not ignorant. He also could not afford to be shocked powerless by this unexpected development.

Sebas had not been holding back in his strike. He did not attack with the intent to stop. If someone dear to him had called out to him to stop, he would only have been able to bow deeply and apologize. The magic caster would have been completely annihilated.

He stared at the masked man. This one now advanced a few more steps, ostensibly blocking its fellows from view.

Sebas' eyes narrowed into slits. His muscles tensed more than they had been. _Creak_. His gloved hands tightened. Just from that block alone he could tell that this one was more dangerous than it let on. This was an enemy that he absolutely had to take seriously, no matter what.

The full force of his killing intent filled the room. He recognized he could no longer hold back.

But they didn't seem affected. All of them, even the little girl, stood like normal, as if his display of power were nothing that serious.

Ah, they must be really strong. Normal humans would have frozen from fear.

"... It appears you intend to fight," the masked one declared.

"Allow us to identify-" said the magic caster.

The masked man shook his head, throwing out a hand behind him. "No, I've got a good feeling. I think he _is_ Sebas Tian. Because of that I think he's a solid 100."

"A level 100? Isn't that dangerous?"

"Just who do you think I am? Remember who you're talking to. I'm the World Champion." He pointed at Sebas. "Very well, guardian. I'll play your game. Let us fight, but not to the death."

"Using your weapons?" He referred to the arms slung over the masked man's back.

"No, only with these." The man pointed to its fists. "And I'll probably add some kicks."

Sebas shook his head. "If it is only that much, then you will die." He felt a little sad for being underestimated.

"Hoh, and why is that?"

 _Because I don't feel anything from you_ , is what he would have replied. His Ki senses weren't picking up a definite reading on the other one's strength. Though it was possible it had been hidden through some magic, and this one actually was leagues better than him.

Or he could just be weak, and that block had just been a fluke.

"... Perhaps not. You blocked my strike; so you are strong. But I wonder what your limit is, human?" Sebas cracked his knuckles audibly. "Whichever of us wins, it is certain we shall not emerge unscathed." And if he died-well, so what? To die in the service of the Supreme Beings, by guarding their Tomb to the last, was the greatest death of all.

The human laughed, a braying sound that drew looks from everyone in the room. "Certainly, you were made to be a formidable sparring partner. With your skills, you were to be the perfect answer to those who rely on their arms." The human drew into a boxing stance.

The killing intent it now exuded was so sudden and so raw that Sebas took a step back. Eyes wide, he looked at the traitorous limb that had retreated. No, he couldn't blame his foot-that was all him.

Fear, was it? It wasn't completely unpleasant.

He snorted. He took a stance. He released his own intent to kill. As I am challenged by such might, it is only right to respond correctly.

Somehow, the masked man seemed to be smiling through its strange brown mask. The tension between them was thick and deadly.

Then the human said:

"Start."

The two charged forward, each springing forward like bullets.

Continuous thunder crashes echoed in the chamber. Sebas was surprised with the feeling of the other's flesh-though it looked completely naked, punching it felt like he were striking steel. Unbreakable steel.

But he didn't let the surprise linger. For the first five seconds he was on the offensive, laying on punch after punch with impunity. Each one handily blocked, but that was fine. He would weather a boulder to a smooth pebble.

"I see," said the man, on the tenth second. Sebas felt insulted. Why was it talking while they fought? "So this is the difference of ninety levels... Or is it because they're 'mythic'? Then let me try my own."

Sebas then felt a sharp pain in his gut. The next second, he was blown away, his vision seeming like he was looking at the room from above.

Then he realized he'd been knocked into the ceiling. Sebas pushed himself free, landing with as much grace as he could muster in light of the pain spreading out from his abdomen.

"Hum!" He used his reserve Ki to dampen the pain and heal any damage. He kept his eyes on the mask. They didn't take the chance to follow up the strike with another, for a decisive blow. Was that its limit, or was there something more?

"A good strike," said Sebas. He found himself grinning. "In all my years in this place, none have been able to so much as scratch this foolish old man."

"Well, you guys were supposed to be the last line of defense, so it's a given you don't see much action..."

"Hah!" He struck with his feet, aiming at the neck. Blocked, as predicted. Whereupon he followed up with a roundhouse. He restarted his assault.

Kicks and sweeps now followed each punch. One could say Sebas had fully unlocked his limiter. Every ounce of skill and experience he brought to bear against his foe. It was an unarmed style his Creator had bestowed upon him.

Sebas, of course, did not know the depth of difference between himself and the being before him. If one were to couch it in Yggdrasil terms, it was a Level 100 with base levels going up against a Level 197-the 97 extra levels being the "mythic" levels of the rebooted Yggdrasil.

And yet even with that level difference, there should have still been a chance of winning. At base, they were still both Level 100s. A base Level 100 could theoretically still surprise and kill a Level 200 magic caster who had only grown in different stat areas and taken classes that didn't boost its survivability. (and stupidly cast the wrong spells, or no spells at all)

Thus, because Touch Me fought with a handicap by not using his weapons, and did not have the requisite mastery of unarmed combat as monks and others had; he would normally fare poorly against Sebas, whose existence was built around his fists.

But Touch Me had used the 97 extra levels to become stronger in the relevant skills. He was also equipped in the very best Divine items, each stuffed with data crystals relevant to its build. So even with such a handicap, he could still display the monstrous skills that had elevated him to World Champion.

Of course, this was speaking in terms of PvP. In this strange world, where players fought against former NPCs-

"Guuh!" A snapkick sent Sebas backward, his shoes kicking up a cloud of dust and debris from the overwhelming force that drove him back. Not even bothering to heal with Ki, a wide-eyed Sebas stood and charged at the masked man, heedless of his injuries.

This time, the masked man did not even bother with blocking. He neatly side-stepped the arm, caught it, then brought his elbow down on Sebas' shoulder. Sebas gritted his teeth, bearing the searing pain. Before Sebas could lash out with the other arm, or perhaps do something crazy a like headbutt, a solid blow sent him crashing to the ground.

It was powerful. It was fast. It was indestructible.

 _With this sort of strength, this world would not have-_

He stood, ready to strike again.

Before he could continue, Sebas doubled over, spitting out blood. His formerly pristine beard was now slick with it. He wiped it off with his gloves.

"... Pardon this crude appearance of mine."

"No no, it's fine, it's actually quite handsome, trust me; so are you ready to concede?"

Sebas stood to full, his back straight despite the sores in his body. "My apologies, intruder, but here in Nazarick we fight to the death."

"Just who taught you that, I wonder..."

"It is someone to whom humans like you are unfit to speak so carelessly with your tongue."

The man shrugged his shoulders. "I don't really care if you hate me, but that little exchange of ours has only shown me one thing: the both of us are still holding back."

Despite the situation, Sebas managed to expel a laugh. "Holding back? Are you perhaps mocking me, intruder?" The masked man was more likely insulting him, belittling his poor performance; then using that to goad him to fight until the last.

Though it was true that the initial battle hadn't really been everything he mustered. As a dragonoid, he could still tap into his inner power to further enhance his abilities.

The only problem was, Sebas still felt that it wasn't enough.

100 plus 1 could still not beat 197.

The man clenched his fist. "Certainly I could feel your resolve in that fight. Your abilities are nothing to sneeze at-"

"Hey!"

Sebas was surprised at the magic caster's sudden shout, interrupting their conversation. He and the masked man glanced at him, then at the one he was looking at.

 _Nemu-sama_! His heart leaped to his throat. _Why had she woken? Why was she here?_

As he thought that, the girl sunk to the ground.

"Hiii..."

Quick as lightning, he leaped to her front, interposing himself between Nemu and the group. He gathered his Ki to fully revitalize his body, then sank into a stance that was ready to give its all to fighting.

"Oh my," he muttered to himself. "This old man's certainly getting more fired up than usual."

In the meantime, the masked man seemed to have been staring at the girl. "Isn't that...?" he said.

Sebas' heart sank. Was this what drew this group to the forest? Were they hunting Nemu-sama?

"She doesn't look good... Oi. Sebas. Give her to us," said the masked man.

"I'd like to refuse. This young lady's safety is in my hands," said Sebas. He ground his teeth. "You will not be handing her over to be a plaything."

"We're going to heal her!"

"I care not for lies."

"Stubborn old goat. I can see why this guy doesn't like me," said the masked man, who pointed a thumb over at the tall, red-haired woman. "Well, Sebas, you've given me no choice. Chagama-san, I hope you're ready," he continued.

"Yes!" said the little girl.

"Here I go," said the masked man, taking a step forward-

And space seemed to blur as Sebas realized his presence was no longer in front of him, but right behind him-

He lashed out, a kick that would have shattered a mountain in two-

Then the masked man was no longer there-

And neither was Nemu-sama.

"Bastard!" he cried. The masked man had taken Nemu in one half of a second, and in the other half he had placed her in the hands of the group. _What speed!_

His charge seemed turtle-like in comparison, as the masked man backflipped and met his fist with its strange mask.

"Raggh!"

Pain surged up his forearm, as he felt bone and sinew snap and crack from the impact. No matter. His feet were all ready to vault over the impediment, hoping to launch itself towards the group and rescue Nemu-sama, even if it would cost him his-

A hand grabbed his ankle, and it twisted with an agonizing crunch as he was hurled away, back against the wall of the chamber. The crash knocked all the wind out of him, and he fell forward; though he managed to prop himself up on his good arm.

Panting, Sebas got to his feet, once again marveling and cursing at the other warrior's mercy of not immediately following up with an attack.

Marveling, because this one seemed an honorable opponent, which was a rarity in these lands.

And cursing, because such was the titanic gap in strength that it didn't need to follow up to destroy him. It was like a veteran playing around with a child who could only flail its arms about.

"Hum..." The masked man walked forward, again screening its fellows from view. "Then this is the end of the battle. I don't want it to go on any further than this, Sebas. There are a lot of questions we want to ask, and... killing you is the last thing we want to do."

Sebas saw a terrified Nemu being cradled in the arms of that girl, as if the twintailed blonde were her mother. They seemed to be casting some spells on her, perhaps ready to bind her for transport back to the surface.

He exhaled; pain lanced into his side. His ribs had cracked. "You... will forgive me for refusing."

There was only one recourse. He stood, and formed a ready stance. The man, on the other hand, crossed his arms.

"Stop this, Sebas Tian!" the masked man thundered. "Devotion to your duty is admirable. But it's enough! You've already done your part; just rest."

Sebas inhaled. He was ready, ready to give it all, even to the point of oblivion. "On the contrary, intruder-dono-my duty's the only thing I have."

 _With this, my sins-_

"Stubborn idiot," the man muttered. "Is there nothing that could make you stop?"

"Only the Supreme Beings may command this lowly servant, human."

"The Supreme Beings, huh?" the man said. He uncrossed his arms, glanced at the people behind him. "Touch Me, was it? Do you think he would be glad for you to waste your life like this?"

"Did you hear that from Demiurge..? No, it doesn't matter. But it's true, intruder. It is from Touch Me-sama's words that give me my raison d'etre. 'It is only common sense to save someone who is in trouble'. Such are the words that bind this existence known as Sebas Tian."

The man stared at him, dumbfounded. "Stubborn idiot," he then repeated. He cleared his throat. "Very well. It is only fitting to meet such determination with a greater one. I shall have you stop, Sebas Tian." He shook his head.

Sebas grunted. "If we are finished with the exchange of words, let us continue."

"Yes. Let's." And then, not just killing intent, but a bright, explosive light burst out from the masked man. It bathed him in a shower of sprarkling light. The sound of rolling thunder filled the room.

For a moment, the silhouette of another being overlapped with the man. A familiar figure clad in silver. When Sebas blinked, the impression was gone.

"Uwah!"

The sound came from the humans behind his enemy.

"Getting all flashy there, eh old goat?"

"So fucking cool! Shit, even my cash items pale in comparison-!"

"This is the World Champion's effects? It's the first time I've seen it."

"All of you, please focus on helping that woman. I'm going to finish this soon," said the masked man. He pointed at Sebas. "Come, Sebas. Show me the peak of your will! Prove your determination, that desire to protect!"

Roaring a battle-cry, Sebas hurtled forward with the force of a hurricane. All his power was bent on overcoming the mountain that stood in his way.

In the space between seconds, Sebas was surprised to see a sword appear in the masked man's hand. A sword? Was the man finally using its trump card? He felt disappointed, and at once vindicated. Surely the man just meant to acknowledge his futile determination with its own proper means of fighting. The human probably thought to end it there in a single, deadly slash.

"Splendid. Now to reward you."

He heard that whisper, but did not know who had said it, or what it meant. He watched as the masked man raised its sword, then heard him say the words that felt like a lance stabbing into his heart.

"[Dimension Slash]."

Impossible.

The ultimate skill. It belonged to someone who had reached the pinnacle of trials. The person to whom the title [World Champion] was bestowed. The greatest warrior.

An attack that ignored the constraints of time, that could break time itself to strike at precisely the right moment.

An attack that could cleave through space, brooking no opposition, shattering any defense, just to strike true.

An unparalleled strike. There was no counterattack, no deflection, no absorption. No, it could not destroy the land. It did not need to destroy. It only made sure of the enemy's defeat-whether one lived or died, that was irrelevant.

To Sebas, it only belonged to one Being, greatest of all in his mind.

Before his eyes, as the sword swung, ready to take his head, the masked man's form seemed to shimmer. Right before his eyes, the mysterious warrior became a familiar sight-it morphed into a warrior clad in silver armor.

Sebas' eyes softened. _Touch Me-sama_ , he thought in his mind. _Forgive me_. He closed his eyes, ready for the execution.

There was the sound of something falling to the ground. Then someone saying "[Cancel]! Hmph, that was close. That was really cutting it close, eh, Sebas? Sebas? Oi, don't tell me you fainted too."

 _He was alive?_ Sebas opened his eyes. A figure loomed over him. His vision cleared.

It was the helmeted face of the silver warrior.

It hadn't been a hallucination. In that moment, joy filled his heart. For standing over him, like a god descended from the heavens, was none other than his Creator, Touch Me. And the feeling inside of him, why hadn't he felt it before? All those created by Nazarick should have recognized one of the Supreme Beings instinctively. He felt ashamed to have ignored the signs, to have _raised his fists against not just a Supreme Being, but his Creator!_

"Touch Me-sama," he said, tears welling up in his eyes. "You've returned."

"Uhh... yeah. Sort of. We've also got a ton of questions, and we would really appreciate your answers."

* * *

The entire exchange had taken something like two minutes. Most of it was talking; the actual combat didn't really last long.

Momonga and Herohero shared a look.

"Such a high-level duel kind of makes me jealous. What do you think, Momonga-san?"

Momonga glanced at the girl he'd just healed. "Well, it's Touch Me-san. He's always been an overpowered guy." He stroked his chin. "And to tell you the truth, I was never worried about him."

"... Didn't you secretly cast [Discern Enemy] on the strange butler?"

"Ah, yes yes, but please don't tell Touch Me-san," said Momonga. Nonexistent sweat pooled under his clothes. He'd only done that to make sure the butler hadn't been a secret powerful boss or something. But as Touch Me had said, he was a Level 100. Though he disliked to brag, everyone here routinely ate Level 100s for breakfast back in Yggdrasil.

"It's alright, isn't it? You were just looking out for a guildmate, just as every good guildmaster. As expected of Momonga-san."

"N-no, you don't have to praise me that much."

But Momonga secretly put the Resurrection Wand he'd been thumbing under his clothes back into the item box.

* * *

 **Shurpuff says: Thanks for reading! Comments welcome.**

 **More to come.**


	5. Madness?

**Shurpuff says: Hello, sorry for the delay, explanations at the end.**

* * *

Nemu felt like a rabbit, shivering inside a bigger creature's hands. Although there was something comfy about being cradled by a formless slime, there remained that inescapable premonition of being slowly crushed and suffocated by a fatal grip.

That was not to mention the strange magics the lich (there could be no doubt as to that one's identity) had wrought upon her. A magic that felt like something was burrowing under her skin; but in the next moment, she was completely fine.

She actually felt better, far more than she'd felt in months.

Nemu shook her head mentally. _At what price, then?_ She thought. No doubt the lich had woven something to bind her to it, perhaps something to do with her soul.

But as evil as its intentions were, neither the slime nor the lich felt as oppressive as the tall bird creature that pierced her with its glare.

It had been doing that for a while now. Ever since the white warrior had carried her, then thrown her to land near the bird-man, Nemu had felt its strange gaze trained on her.

Nemu felt like a rabbit, being offered to a predatory bird by the loving hands of its owner. She couldn't help but shiver.

"Oi," said the slime. "Otouto. Something wrong? You're breathing hard."

"Peroroncino-san, are you alright?" asked the lich.

"Ah, no," said the bird-man. Steam seemed to be coming from the holes on its beak. "It's... haaah... I mean she looks really-haaah... well, I know there are boundaries and all-"

Nemu shuddered when she felt the slime beneath her tremble. Its form rippled with a feeling she couldn't tell.

"Onii-chan~~" Nemu was surprised to hear another voice coming from the slime. Was there another entity hidden in its depths? "Do you perhaps, and I would dearly love to be proven wrong-HAVE A FUCKING HARD-ON!?" The sudden shout made Nemu jump, her heart hammering in her chest.

"What?" cried the bird-man. "No!" Then the bird-man turned around.

"Yes you do! You just-You better stow your new bird-dick inside your feathers, brother mine, or I swear to all the dead idols enshrined that I'll tell Momonga-san here what a certain someone did on his fourteenth birthday."

"I am very sorry, I will endeavor to cease from any foolish behavior..."

While Peroroncino genuflected before his sister, an incredulous Momonga looking on, the other people in the party were examining the kneeling Sebas.

Sebas Tian could not help but feel self-conscious, even if he knew he was in the presence of the Supreme Beings, to whom he paid his ultimate allegiance. Plus, there was his lord and creator, whom he would follow to the ends of the earth: Touch Me.

"It looks far more realistic than anything in the reboot," said the one he recognized as Ulbert Alain Odle. Leaving aside his complex feelings regarding his own creation, Sebas felt only a slight wariness towards the goat-head. "But who would have thought our NPCs would be animated like so?"

"Even for the reboot, such complex AI behavior is impossible," said Herohero. The black slime seemed to be appraising him. Sebas did not recall anything unpleasant about this Supreme Being, so he was less guarded. "Assuming he is a robot, his actions thus far are still beyond anything we could accomplish yet. But Sebas-san is flesh and blood, so even the supposition of him being a robot is thrown out the window-"

A single, long claw trailed its way over Sebas' shoulder. He refrained from flinching at the sudden sensation. "He feels alive. He's more alive than the fuckers I know back in Japan, and that's saying something."

His creator, Touch Me, had so far remained silent. He couldn't tell what the Supreme Being was thinking behind its helm, but Sebas felt the most self-conscious under his appraising gaze. It rather felt like he was being dissected, examined, and put back together, repeatedly.

Aside from that, Sebas felt a maddening sense of self-loathing. To think he had raised his hand against not just one of the Supreme Beings, but his own Master. That was equivalent to a mortal sin to anyone from Nazarick. Sebas strongly felt that had Touch Me demanded it, he would have gladly taken his own life to eliminate the shame.

Mere seconds after the battle, he'd done just that, prostrating and apologizing profusely. But Touch Me-sama had said, "No, lift your head, it's fine, please Sebas-you could never have hurt me-" Now he was slightly relieved, but only slightly.

"S-Sebas-sama!"

"Mph?"

Nemu had run to him, crushing him in a surprise hug. Her whole body was shaking, as if she were on the throes of a convulsion.

"Nemu-sama? What's wrong?" He patted her back. Her trembling didn't cease.

"S... Scared..."

Sebas shot an apologetic look over her shoulder at the Supreme Beings, then gently pushed her away to stare into Nemu's eyes.

He smiled. "Please be at ease, Nemu-sama. These are the greatest entities in the world, my masters, the Supreme Beings."

"Your... masters?"

"Yes. Though they appear that way, they are the kindest masters I have ever known," he said. _But was that really true?_ he thought. What sort of deity created something like Demiurge? Or Shalltear Bloodfallen? Two of them were in this very room.

No, he shouldn't think like that. Such thoughts were unworthy of the Most Supreme.

Sebas felt a hand on his shoulder. It was his Creator, who nodded silently to the girl. Understanding his intention, Sebas turned the girl around.

"Let us introduce ourselves, young miss," said Touch Me, bowing. The very sight would have made Sebas cry, "Please do not do that, a Supreme Being should not lower its head!"; but he refrained, fearing to incur his Creator's displeasure.

"We are from the Guild, [Ainz Ooal Gown]. This one's name is Touch Me. Pleased to meet you."

The goat-head clacked its knife-like claws together. "Mine is Ulbert Alain Odle, keeper of Catastrophe, World Disaster. Remember the name, young one, for it shall bring salvation." He grinned.

The black slime looked like it was bowing. "Ah, I'm Herohero. Nice to meet you, miss."

"P-P-Peroroncino, my name is! N-nice to meet you, ma'am!" cried the bird-man. Sebas was confused by the Supreme Being's jumpy demeanor.

The pink slime also bowed. "Bukubukuchagama; charmed to meet you, little one. There is no reason to fear us, you know."

The lich stirred. "And I am-"

He was interrupted by Ulbert. "And here is our great leader, the Guildmaster of [Ainz Ooal Gown]. The indomitable. The merciless. He who holds the title of a 'true god', the [God of Unlife]: Momonga!"

When the other Supreme Beings clapped their hands at a bashful lich, Sebas couldn't help but follow suit, his eyes wide. _A god?_ Were not the Supreme Beings already existences that could be considered god-like? Then what would that make Lord Momonga?

"Ah, that was totally unnecessary, Ulbert-san," Momonga said, reproachfully.

"But is it not true?" asked Ulbert. "For what is [Ainz Ooal Gown] but the crystallization of our lord Momonga's hopes and dreams? Also-" Ulbert put a hand to his head, then cast some magic. Sebas vaguely recognized it as a [Message] spell, though Ulbert wasn't saying anything.

A few moments passed in silence. Then Ulbert ended his spell.

The other Supreme Beings shrugged. "Well, makes sense," said Herohero.

"Eh~ 'Role Play'? I'm not sure Kazechin can do that sorta thing~" said Chagama-san.

"Oh, b-but is it really okay for me to take on that role, guys?" said Momonga.

"Of course," said Touch Me. He clapped a hand on Momonga's shoulder. "Who better to pull it off than the guild's foremost dream build Player? You're a natural."

"Besides, like Ulbert-san said, it's actually kind of necessary." After Peroroncino said that, all the Supreme Beings looked at Sebas. Then at Nemu.

Sebas patted her back. Nemu glanced fearfully at him, before swallowing. He felt a bit of pride in seeing the resolve in her eyes. "M-my name is... Nemu Em-"

Then came a rumbling sound, which filled the silence in the chamber.

"Ah!" Nemu clapped a hand to her mouth, her cheeks flushing red. For some reason, her body shook even harder.

"Ah... was that you, Nemu-chan?" said Chagama-san. She chuckled. "Don't worry, I've got a special item for situations like this." The pink slime produced a small box from nowhere. A second later, there was a bright flash, and there laid on the floor was a mat, upon which were laid a veritable feast. Pots of steaming soup, mounds of hot rice and peas, and other savory delicacies. A big, roasted chicken was the centerpiece in this affair. The sights and smells seemed to get to Nemu, whose stomach began to rumble.

A few of the Supreme Beings whistled.

"Presenting, Bukubukuchagama's [Excellent Feast]!" Chagama-san announced.

Sebas could only smile wryly as he watched Nemu soak it in with wonder. Chagama-san appeared smug, and motioned for Nemu to eat.

"And you too, Sebas-san. I imagine you're hungry?"

"Mmm..." Sebas hesitated, then glanced at Nemu. She had the look of someone who, despite seeing all this appear like magic, could still not trust enough to try. "Then, I shall rely on your esteemed kindness, Lady Bukukuchagama." There were plates and cutlery arranged at the edge of the mat, Sebas took one for himself, then sampled some of the soup. He nodded to himself after one sip, and said. "Delicious. Please try some, Nemu-sama."

After she took the first bite of the roast chicken, a fire was lit inside Nemu. She began shoveling food onto her plate and eating as if her life depended on it. Sebas smiled as he looked on. Putting his own plate aside, he bowed deeply to the Supreme Beings, in particular the kindly slime goddess with matchless thoughtfulness. "Though it might be rude, allow me to repeat my thanks, oh exalted ones. Know that I shall strive to repay this kindness for the rest of my life."

Peroroncino whispered something he couldn't hear to Lord Momonga. Apparently, it was funny, as it made Ulbert snicker. Sebas looked at his Creator, who was watching Nemu.

"It seems that one fact of this world is this possibility. But still, to this extent..."

"I guess we can count out having to be hungry," said Herohero. "I've got tons of items like that in my box."

"Same here," said Momonga.

"Ugh, crap. Am I the only one having to go without?" said Ulbert.

"Are you sure you can even eat with those hands of yours? Your mouth'll end up bleeding," said Peroroncino.

"And aren't you a goat-like creature? What about that grass you were chewing?" said Chagama-san.

"I am not a goat," said Ulbert, a little indignant. "And the fact that I can't even stomach grass is a very good reason." He looked at his hand. "No. My diet appears to be something... darker."

Sebas narrowed his eyes. But seeing the other Supreme Beings offer no comment, he held his tongue.

"Darker, like... blood?" asked Peroroncino. "I didn't think you took vampire levels."

"Nah, I didn't spec that way. I'd never spec that way, too cliche, yeugh. Speaking of vampires, isn't your little sexbot supposed to be here somewhere, Peroroncino? Or am I remembering it wrong?"

"Now that you mention it, you're right," said the bird-man. His voice sounded excited. He looked around. The Supreme Beings glanced among themselves. "And... well, unless I'm remembering wrong, wasn't Sebas Tian assigned to the 9th level? Right, Touch Me-san?"

"He was," Momonga confirmed. Sebas almost shivered when he found himself gazing into the flames burning in the Guildmaster's eye-sockets. He had the sneaking feeling that the Overlord was testing him. "The last thing I remember of that place was... Sebas and the Pleiades, and Albedo in the Throne Room with me."

"Ah, that time, huh," said Herohero.

"That time?" asked Ulbert.

"Hush," said Chagama-san. "I think he means that time."

"Oh, that time," said Peroroncino. Touch Me nodded silently.

 _What time_ , he wanted to ask, but knew it would be impudent to do so. Such complex matters were likely beyond him. Beside him, Nemu stared up nervously at the assembled Beings.

Momonga nodded, making an "umu" expression with his fingers on his chin. "I could swear to not having changed anything when the servers were going down." Then the guildmaster froze. A few seconds passed before light engulfed him. Momonga frantically shook his head. "-N-no, except for... I mean," he coughed. "I am perfectly sure everyone should be where they're supposed to be."

Peroroncino cleared his throat. "If this is Nazarick."

"That again," said Chagama-san, shaking her head. "We can only work on what's before our eyes, little brother. And the simplest explanation is-"

"-That this is Nazarick, that is Sebas Tian, and that the game has somehow come to life," Touch Me concluded. "And I can personally vouch that this is indeed Sebas Tian. No mere imitation could have wholly embraced the vision that I intended for him."

Mustache quivering with joy, Sebas bowed his head, unable to even murmur his heartfelt gratitude.

"With those doubts out of the way," said Ulbert. "We can return to Peroroncino's original question. Where is Shalltear? Where are the other minions who're supposed to be here?"

With that, all the Supreme Beings turned to stare at Sebas once more.

Sebas swallowed, suddenly feeling an intense, crushing pressure.

* * *

Nazarick's presence in this strange place was only one among the litany of surprises this world showed them. When one suddenly had the power to destroy with but a touch, when one suddenly was an animated slime creature, when one moved with such supernatural speed only ever seen in anime; the fact that their old guild base was also in this "New World" was not that astounding.

Perplexing, for Momonga, who had earnestly wished to be reunited with the old tomb, only to be granted said wish-in this strange manner of crossing worlds.

 _I wanted the old Nazarick back, but not to this extent_ , thought Momonga. _If there are any "gods" listening out there, I'd much rather go back home and try for that data crystal for Bukubukuchagama-san to help with retaking Nazarick... Please..._

Momonga pushed those sad thoughts to the side. Right now, he must be the pillar of this party, if not for his guildmaster title, but also for the sake of eventually bringing them all home. Even if he didn't know how.

To start, he had to really put on his roleplaying chops, as Ulbert had suggested just now.

Momonga pointed a skeletal hand towards the kneeling Sebas. "Come, Sebas. Inform your m-masters-" _Was 'masters' right? Technically they were in that sort of hierarchy to NPCs right?_ "-a report on this, the Great Tomb of Nazarick."

"Gladly, milords," Sebas said promptly. He stood. Only years of negotiating sales with clients over hot sake let Momonga catch on to the way Sebas' face twitched. Either the butler was going to ask a question, or he was going to go on a rage-fueled tirade.

"Twenty years ago," Sebas began, his eyes fixed on the remains of the [Excellent Feast] below. "The Tomb, and everyone in it, was transported to this place."

"What is this place? Yggdrasil?" asked Peroroncino.

"The native humans at that time never had a name for their land, milord Peroroncino," said Sebas. "But this was not Yggdrasil, as we'd assumed. Instead, there had been great settlements here. Human civilization, divided among different nations. There once was the Re-Estize Kingdom, the Baharuth Empire, and the Slane Theocracy."

Ulbert rolled his eyes.

"There were other nations, of course, but these mentioned were the closest to this tomb."

"Then, Sebas-san," asked Herohero. "When you came to this place, you suddenly came alive?"

"Hm? I do not understand milord Herohero. We who guard Nazarick had always been alive."

"No, but-hmm... how do I explain this..."

"I have few memories of the time when your august Selves walked this tomb, milord. But those memories shone brightly. The day I was created by milord Touch Me, the day the Pleiades were made, the day when news of the 1500 strong army came up through the hierarchy, and your august Selves were preparing to meet the enemy at the 8th floor. There are others, but these shine brighter than the rest."

If Momonga had muscles, he'd definitely been smiling. That epic defense had been one of the fondest memories he'd held of old Yggdrasil.

"But most of the time," continued Sebas, "I was in here, managing the affairs assigned to me as Head Butler. I was here when-" Sebas glanced at Momonga. "My pardons. I was here until the very end, milords. That was twenty years ago. Then, we discovered that the Tomb had moved to this place."

Twenty years for them, but only five years for the Players? Momonga wondered why that was.

"Unusual," said Ulbert. "It was a bit abrupt, yes?"

Sebas bowed. "We were all greatly confused, at first. This, coming at the heels of-" Again Sebas paused, looking at Momonga. The latter wondered if there was some meaning to why he kept repeating that.

The others seemed to have picked up on it, as they asked Sebas, "What's wrong? Why do you keep looking at Lord Momonga?"

Sebas stirred, breaking eye contact and bowing. "My deepest apologies." Then he proceeded to genuflect. A startled Nemu also made to bow, but was stopped by Chagama-san's voice.

"Hey, stop that. We don't need people bowing to us. We just need answers."

"What's wrong, Sebas?" asked Touch Me.

"Forgive my rude manners, milord," said Sebas, his voice coming out in ragged gasps. "But please permit me to ask one question, before I continue. Please allow this lowly servant this one boon, milords-"

"Ah, whatever. It's granted. Ask away," said Ulbert. His manner was a little abrupt, but he wasn't alone in being impatient with Sebas.

"My deepest thanks, milord Ulbert." Sebas swallowed. "Then, honored Masters, here is my question.

"Why did you leave us?"

Everyone reacted visibly to that question. Herohero and Bukubukuchagama trembled, Ulbert clucked his tongue, Peroroncino twitched his body. Touch Me gave a small sigh. Only Momonga stood outwardly unchanged, but inside he was sweating up a storm.

 _Leave? What-Oh, did he mean that time in old Yggdrasil, when everyone quit?_

That made sense. Assuming everything they were seeing was correct, then an NPC, who had just been given sentience according to their functions, was wondering about the situation and environment into which they'd been suddenly thrust into. And that line of thinking led to a very sensitive topic which even Momonga did not want to bring up in the rebooted Yggdrasil.

The first [Ainz Ooal Gown] had fallen apart, like a crumbling castle. Then it had been remade.

But Momonga remembered that the remaking had not been guaranteed, at first. It had been a delight to hear of Touch Me's exploits and meet him again. Helping Nishikienrai with a random quest had reunited Momonga with the steadfast guildmate. The siblings Peroroncino and Bukubukuchagama had had their own clan, but were on the receiving end of a brutal clan betrayal when Momonga and friends had stumbled upon it.

Member by member, piece by piece, the guild was put back together. Some of his friends had chosen different heteromorphic avatars, had preferred different builds. But they were still unmistakably the same people he'd spent a lot of fun with in the old Yggdrasil.

And all through those years, Momonga never once brought up the issue of their leaving in the first place. Reality had indeed beckoned, and it was only sheer luck in their offline lives that had enabled them to actually play the reboot. Momonga thus buried those feelings of resentment deep inside.

Now, it was disconcerting having to dig it out again. And all because of this bizarre situation of these "live" NPCs.

They had to get some answers, to get a better feel of this world.

Momonga knew they had to tread carefully. If they gave the wrong answer, or an answer that Sebas would not understand, he knew there'd be some consequences down the road. Just like him, Sebas could feel resentment, and may even try to undermine them in the future.

So how to approach this delicately? He thought Touch Me would try to offer some of his well-meaning advice to his creation, but he was just as speechless as the rest.

No choice. He had to take the lead.

"Sebas," he said, putting as much authority into his voice as he could, "Although we are obligated to answer you, know that such presumption into our affairs is displeasing to us." Did he get the voice right? His eyes swept over to the others, and found no reaction. He pressed on, glad that Sebas had remained silent. "And even without that admonition, how could you even assume that we, the Supreme Beings which you admire, would ever abandon our creations?

"A myriad tasks await us in the higher planes." Technically true. "It is foolish to consider yourselves the only matters in our minds." Also true. "In the many worlds of Yggdrasil are other tasks of merit. We had simply chosen to pursue those as our new goals."

"Though I may presume much in asking another question, great Momonga," said Sebas. "But what were those goals?"

 _What, indeed?_ Before the reboot, it was just to live another day. During the reboot, it was leveling, PKing, grinding, farming-all the necessities of a VRMMO player's life. A combination of pressure and panic created a hole through which Momonga's thoughts clambered. "To gain more power," he said, after a moment's pause.

"More power..." Sebas repeated, in a hushed voice.

"Indeed," said Momonga. He swept his hands over his party mates. "Can you not sense it, our creation? The Beings you see before you... are not the same ones which you claim to have 'left'. No, we have... transcended."

They really _weren't_ the same avatars as in old Yggdrasil. They technically also had more power, at least relative to old Yggdrasil-with the higher level cap, the various mythic classes and equipment-even if Touch Me largely looked the same as he'd been, that was only on a superficial glance. Were one to inspect him more closely, they'd see the stark difference.

Sebas' eyes wandered quickly over them all. "I see," he said. "No wonder I didn't sense it before. It really is as if you were different beings, milord. Forgive me once again, for these eyes too blind to see the truth."

"It is of no consequence," said Momonga, waving dismissively.

"Then you have returned..." said Sebas. "Because have finished attaning power? What did you wish to do in Nazarick, milord?"

Momonga could almost grin. He had expected this, at least. "Sebas, do I really need to remind you again of what I'd said? Did you really think we would not return, no matter how long the time, no matter how far we go? Not return to inspect our creation, to learn of what had transpired." Now he was spouting lies. He hoped Sebas wouldn't pick up on it. "But then... to our shock, we found that it was no longer in the place we'd expected it to be." Of all he'd said, this statement was the most true, surprisingly. "We had to follow the trail. If something had happened to our Nazarick, we had to know. And thus, it led us... here." He exhaled, looking again at his guildmates, who hadn't said anything. He caught the barest of nods from Touch Me; at least he knew the other man approved.

 _Thank you, Touch Me-san._

Sebas fell to his knees again and punched the floor. He began to wail: "How foolish. How FOOLISH we have been! To think we-I, would think so badly of the Great Ones, to blindly assume that they did not think of us at all. To assume they were disappointed! Foolish, how foolish."

"Hoh? And why would we be disappointed, Sebas? Our own creations, the crystallization of all our hopes, our wills? You are like our children, Sebas. What being would dare rebuke their own?"

"Forgive me, milord. Forgive me for having ever thought thus! May you please extend such mercy to those of us who thought the same. To... _them_."

This time, Momonga was confused. "Them?"

Sebas exhaled. A moment later, he stood up. His expression was less steely than before-now he looked almost defeated. "Yes. It is to my shame that I report-that most of us felt despair in those first days, when all seemed bleak.

"A new world. The absence of our lords, to whom we swore fealty. Even the great Momonga had left, and I joined the others in thinking the 41 had altogether tired of us. I admit to have felt lost then. I faltered in my assigned duties. And then, I could not even restrain the others, prevent them from doing what they have done."

"What have they done, Sebas?" asked Touch Me, who spoke for the first time.

Sebas looked at his Creator, then turned away, as if ashamed to face the latter. "Death, milord," he whispered. "Untold death and chaos across this land. It was... a madness that we could not explain. A madness that even took hold of my mind."

"Death?" asked Ulbert. "Chaos?"

"I have told milords the existence of such nations, yes? Kingdoms made by human hands. They lived peacefully among all the other races in this world. Before we came. And through our madness we tore them down, scattering their foundations to the winds. Now... now humanity is doomed." He glanced down at Nemu, who had somehow taken the speech to heart, her expression sad. "What is left of them serve in the legions of the dead, or are otherwise playthings to be experimented upon in the gardens of the Demon King."

"So then, those pig-men..." said Chagama-san.

"Aye," said Sebas. "Their ilk, the beast-men and all other non-humans of this world have taken over the lands where humans once flourished. Theirs is the law of strength. They bow to the whims of the world's new rulers, and have assisted in exterminating all trace of humanity from the world."

Momonga could tell he wasn't the only one disturbed by Sebas' words. Far from the pastoral scenes they'd traveled through, (with the exception of the pig-men) this world seemed more hellish than they had assumed

And it was all because-

"So you mean," said Peroroncino. "Everyone left?"

"Not everyone," said Sebas, shaking his head. "But the strongest ones did. The Floor Guardians, of course. Then the Area Guardians, those who felt they were no longer bound by-my pardons-the Supreme Beings' directives. Then the lesser guardians joined the POPs, and marched out upon request of the Floor Guardians. Now there are only a handful left here, including me. If you wish to ask about who would be guarding Nazarick in their absence-well, what we have done here would ensure no one ever stepped foot here. The forest around here has been known as the 'Dread Forest' for years now. Nothing lives there but for the sufferance of the Guardians-"

"So wait, those guys set themselves up as kings?" cried Chagama-san. Sebas' uncomfortable tongue-tied silence was the only answer.

"Shalltear? And the others?" said Peroroncino. "The Pleiades...?"

"The twins?" asked Chagama-san.

"That guy," said Ulbert, his face twisting.

"What about the homonculi maids?" asked Herohero. Momonga could feel a sort of desperation in his voice.

"They... I cannot be sure. But most of them agreed with the general sentiment, that... " Again Sebas faltered. "I do not know where they are now; but they all have left. I have been maintaining this place by myself. Well, largely by myself."

"Do they really hold that much power?" said Touch Me. "Were there none to resist...?"

"There were great wars," said Sebas. "I... please forgive me again for saying this, milord. But I fought against my fellow Guardians. I had to take a side, when I knew what they were capable of. I joined the human armies, hoping to bolster their resolve. But it was too late. I was straining to raise a sinking ship. It was fortunate they did not consider me a traitor and ended me-"

"If they had ended you-" said Touch Me, anger in his voice.

"I am gratified, milord. But please do not blame them." Sebas pursed his lips. "With the last war ended and humanity scourged, I retreated here to return to my former duties. I could no longer abide by the reminders of my failure. I only hoped to repent by preserving what I had thought milords had abandoned. Once more, please forgive me for presuming!"

I don't understand what's going on, thought Momonga. _The Guardians are our enemies? They slaughtered humans? They brought ruin to this world like a cliched evil force? Why? How could they-_

"Then... where are they now, Sebas?" asked Peroroncino. There was a strange glint in his eyes.

Sebas stood to attention. "Shalltear Bloodfallen has styled herself the Night Queen. She roosts east of here, controlling a small domain from which her undead legions spread.

"The Demon King-" he did not miss Sebas' glance at Ulbert, "-And his cohorts hold the western lands, where they work tirelessly to... I have no words to describe all the evils they have done, and what they continue to do. Forgive me.

"Aura and Mare have disappeared, although there are rumors of a great forest to the south, which is said to bristle with fierce creatures.

"Cocytus... Cocytus is dead."

Everyone cried out. "Dead?"

"My apologies, milords," said Sebas. "It was a long time ago... and even I do not rightly know the details.

"Victim is unique in that it preferred to travel the world incognito. Sometimes it returns here, and we converse.

"As for the Pleiades-I am actually in close contact with Yuri Alpha. She and CZ2128 Delta are guarding a cabal of strong humans, upon my request. As for the others-" Again he shook his head.

"Then, Sebas," said Momonga. "What of the creatures in the 8th Floor?" His eyes narrowed. He felt that those would be troublesome if they had attained the same sentience as the rest.

"Aside from Victim, who left willingly, none have left their post," said Sebas. "But that reminds me, milords. Though the Lastborn continues to maintain the Cherry Blossom Sanctuary-"

"It's still here?" said Peroroncino.

"-Yes. She attends to her duties with much zeal. But I do not know if she will allow you access. Though I acknowledge you as the Supreme Beings, there may be a chance she will be hostile."

"Hmmm... troublesome," said Ulbert. "And if we try teleporting, there's a- well, we could work with that..."

"It would be better if we had the [Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown]," said Momonga. But all of those had been deleted along with the grand shutdown. Or were they lying around somewhere in here, as Nazarick was?

Then a thought occured to him. "Sebas, has no one then accessed the Treasury rooms?"

After a beat, Sebas shook his head. "No, and I did not even recall there was one, until now. My apologies, milord."

 _Ah, so that guy's still there._

 _Oh, but maybe it's best that place is locked up..._ He glanced at his friends. _N-not that that's important, especially in this situation! Geez, grow up, Suzuki Satoru! This is a serious event! Minions amok, a world in tatters!_

But to Momonga, almost none of it mattered. He didn't know if it was because of his undead trait, but the only feeling Momonga thought was relevant, was the elation at finally being reunited with his beloved Nazarick.

"And now," muttered Momonga. "What are we supposed to do...?"

Outside the tomb, night had fallen.

* * *

 **Shurpuff says: Alright, so apologies again for the delay. The reason for it was that I spent the past week writing more stories for Overlord.  
**

 **I found these stories were not up to par, so I scrapped them.**

 **One had the concept where the "templates" of the 41 Players were the ones who came alive at the end. So "Satoru Suzuki" was not in "Momonga", but the overlord nonetheless comes alive and is the head of 41 powerful heteromorphs, each with personalities reflecting their forms (like Momonga hating life, Takemikazuchi as a frothing berserker). The New World would then be but a stepping stone in Nazarick's conquest of new worlds.  
**

 **The second was, in a nutshell, a glorified wish fulfillment smutfic. A Satoru Suzuki with a different backstory used a different avatar: a super Doppelganger. When he gets transported, he ends up wishing to have a family instead of finding his friends. (And the denizens of Nazarick are only too eager to oblige!) I only got a couple of chapters in before I scrapped the idea out of embarrassment. The Mare/Entoma threesome was just too much.**

 **So, excuses out of the way, I hope you enjoyed reading!**

 **More to come.**


	6. Carne

They relocated to the Floor Guardian's assigned rooms, which was incidentally the quarters belonging to Shalltear Bloodfallen. Peroroncino had insisted on their not entering the deeper chambers, where Shalltear was scripted to sleep. Momonga supposed there was something embarrassing he'd put there.

They had sent Nemu away with Sebas, cautioning him not to tell "those who had stayed behind in Nazarick" about their return. He wasn't to inform the others who'd left about them either. Sebas accepted the orders with a bow.

They intended to have a full-fledged meeting; but it was not more than a mere repetition of the facts. The issue of their presence in this world. The issue about their NPCs, who had run amok outside. The issue about the outside world in itself, and what they expected to see.

After several fruitless attempts to start a vote on what they should be doing, they all agreed to take some time and disperse to be alone with their own thoughts.

Peroroncino had immediately gone towards Shalltear's burial chambers. Touch Me murmured something about seeing to Sebas. Ulbert said something about testing the gate to the next floor. Herohero disappeared somewhere without a word. And Chagama-san had been left behind, rifling busily through her item box.

For himself, Momonga chose to go back up to the surface. He flew up to the mausoleum's roof, and then stared up at the peaceful night sky. The stars were a wonder to behold, and helped to soothe his spirits.

Momonga could well relate to the possible turmoil in their minds-his own thoughts were of a raft drifting in a raging sea. It was just adding to the stress of suddenly finding themselves in this strange new world. A world where everything had gone to shit, in more ways than one.

And to make things worse, their discovering that one's creations were responsible. That was a punch in the gut to anyone except possibly Touch Me. It was like a sketch one had made as a grade-schooler had been used to create a doomsday device.

He stared across the vast plains, then over to the forest where they'd all started. Sebas' remarks on its being called the "Dread Forest", where most of its life had been purged, sent a shiver down his spine. He wondered what Blue Planet would have said, had he also been informed that it had been their own creations that had done it.

 _Well, not like there was any need to wonder,_ Momonga decided a moment later. He laughed at himself.

"Momonga-san."

The sudden [Message] caught him off-guard. Momonga strained to manage the magic, and replied to the owner of the voice in his head, "Ah, is this Chagama-san? What's wrong?"

"Could you accompany me to a date in the woods?"

"Haah?"

"Please, Great Momonga-san. It's just one tiny favor for this little cute slime."

"Eh... that should be fine, Chagama-san, but why the woods-" Momonga stopped, his eyes snapping to a particular direction in the forest. "... Are you going to revive them?"

The next voice was no longer the cutesy one, but her normal voice. "Yeah... as expected of Momonga-san. You know a maiden's heart."

"Th-that's a bit..." He cleared his nonexistent throat. "Well, I can do that, Chagama-san. But why do you need me?"

"Eh, because it's all scary in the woods-is what I'd like to say, but I'd just like the help of the resident resurrection expert in the guild." Halfway through her statement, Chagama-san had seamlessly gone from high-pitched to normal voice. That was a seiyuu for you.

"Me? An expert?"

"Sure. Aren't you the [God of Unlife] now?"

"Hm? What does that have to do with it?"

"Well, don't you have all those weird new powers? I mean "unlife", that's like an awesome portfolio you got there, like Tabula-san said. And let's not forget-you're supposed to be a god. In this place. Is it still not sinking in for you?"

"Truthfully, I feel no different." He thought it over for a second. "But yes, I do have 'some' new spells from becoming a god. Though I don't know how it'll help..."

"Well, let's just see about it right now! 'Kay, I'll meet you at that place right now, Momonga-san. ...You do still have a means to teleport right?"

Momonga snorted. "Of course." Aside from being leader of "that heteromorphic PK guild", he was also known as the one with the most learned spells. His levels in Ancient Sage, along with the ability [Dark Wisdom], had widened his capability of storing and sorting through the hundreds of spells available to players.

The [Message] ended, Momonga cast a simple [Recall], teleporting him to that place where they'd buried the humans. The presence of Herohero's rune also helped with identifying the "waypoint"-to him; it was like a bright neon sign.

Chagama-san had gotten there first. The sight of a young girl looking worriedly at the impromptu mound of buried people was oddly touching to Momonga. Not enough to trigger his undead trait, so the feeling lingered.

He glanced around the forest. It was true that no one else was there so he did not need to cast defensive spells, but the PK instincts never truly left. Also-

"Hum. It looks like those pigs left," he said. The pile of pig-men, which had been close to the mound, had disappeared. They might have been teleported away-or they simply left, but Momonga couldn't be sure without seeing tracks and all that.

"Yeah," Chagama-san spat. "After this, I'm going to order my brother to track them down and give them hell."

"Hmmm... Wouldn't it be better to capture them, and use one of the mind-spells to extract information from them first? Though we know about the Guardians, it's still better to be... y'know, more informed of things."

"...Sheesh. I don't know why I didn't think about that. I guess you have a point. Hum. Is it just me or am I a bit more reckless now...?"

Momonga stared at the girl, who appeared to be thinking. He cleared his throat. "Are you going to start now, Chagama-san?"

"Hm? Oh, right." She then produced a small, pink rod. There was a golden star at its tip. It was a special type of resurrection wand. Momonga vaguely recalled it being only available to those who underwent a certain quest.

It shouldn't be that different from other resurrection wands, so Momonga just stood back as Chagama-san stepped up to the mound with wand raised.

There was a certain clinical detachment about the prospect of possibly witnessing a full-fledged resurrection. An impossible feat in the real world, and now it was as real as the fleshless skull that was supposed to be his face. He wondered how it would go-back in Yggdrasil, using it on a player just let them respawn in a flash of pixels. What would it do here?

"Go! [Resurrect]!" Chagama-san cried. Ethereal, pinkish light bloomed, bathing the mound in its radiance. After a moment, the surge of magic ended, and the light faded.

Silence. After a few moments, Chagama-san said, "Huh. It's not working?"

"Maybe there's a delay? Or..." Momonga got the idea to open one of the coffins. The disgust that should have been there from doing such a desecrating act was suppressed by his undead trait.

Inside, they saw Ulbert-san's spell was still working to preserve the corpse. Just in case, Momonga dispelled the protection on that corpse, then motioned for Chagama-san to repeat.

"[Resurrect]!"

Another few seconds. Then five minutes. Then ten.

"It's really not working...?" Chagama wondered, shaking the rod.

"Perhaps it's an issue of the item," Momonga ventured. "I shall try casting an actual spell."

Because death was so prevalent in the PvP-focused worlds in Yggdrasil, there were multiple means of resurrecting players out in the field. The cheapest way, without having to expend class levels or waste a spell slot, was to buy a [Wand of Lesser Resurrection]. Low-levels used it extensively, and only upgraded to better wands when they could no longer afford the wand's side-effects.

Resurrection using spells was usually the domain of "faith"-based magic casters. As a part of role-playing flavor, only those who'd taken up cleric-type classes could raise the dead. Magic casters such as sorcerers or mages had to use [Raise Dead], a mid-level spell that usually competed for a spell slot among other useful spells.

Necromancers like Momonga could not raise at all. They could create undead, temporarily grant a player a "revenant"-like state that only lasted for a minute or so, but they couldn't fully resurrect. They had to take other class' levels just to accomplish it, but doing so usually crippled their careers as magic casters. And for Momonga who followed a dream build, taking something deemed "holy" and such was "NG".

Back in old Yggdrasil, Momonga was never worried about this limitation. He had wands. But in the reboot, and especially after being granted the status of a Deity-

He had certain new spells. He had never gotten around to using them, believing them to be trump cards. Though his guildmates knew about the added spells, they didn't know about the precise details, which was a detail approved by the resident stategist, Punitto Moe. "Knowledge is power" and all that. They knew he could heal better than their resident healers, but that was the extent.

Thinking about a certain spell now, Momonga let out a breath with his nonexistent lungs.

 _It should be this one... I don't need to resurrect them all yet..._

"[Void Dredge]!"

Following a distant roar, a sheet of darkness covered the corpse. Unlike the light from Chagama-san's wand, the sight was more sinister in appearance. He held his nonexistent breath as he stared at the black mass. Then a monstrous, black hand emerged geyser-like from the crawling darkness, unclasping slowly before receding. A moment later, something clicked in Momonga's mind-the spell had failed.

"Hm?" Struck by the surprise, Momonga could only exclaim that.

"What's wrong? Still didn't work?" said Chagama-san. Momonga glanced at her before nodding.

"It's supposed to be a high-level spell, something I have as a [God]... but it appears that in here it doesn't really work." He chuckled humorlessly to himself. It appeared that even a "god" like him had limitations-well, it wasn't that he was expecting something miraculous to happen.

Chagama-san sighed. "Haahh... well, I guess it's just because resurrection is a no-show here? Damn it."

Momonga furrowed his brows. He put another preserving enchantment on the corpse, before closing the coffin.

"I'm sorry, Chagama-san."

"No, I should be the one to apologize for wasting your time and making you go along with my request..."

"What are you saying? It's no trouble at all, Chagama-san."

They went back to Nazarick, bowed by the failure. On the mausoleum's steps, a voluptuous redhead was waiting.

"Where'd you two go?" he asked.

They told him about Chagama-san's desire to help the people, and then the subsequent failure of any of their resurrection attempts. Ulbert nodded to himself.

"I guess there's still things that are consistent...? Maybe? The raising of the dead to life is-something that muddles with our idea of common sense. Microbes die, plants, animals-even stars cease to be after a long while. If death could be overturned... right? It would shake up the universe, I think."

Neither of them could answer Ulbert concretely, and thankfully the latter didn't press for a discussion. Ulbert excused himself to "sleep", though judging from the way he shrugged he didn't expect to. Chagama-san wasn't supposed to need to sleep, being a slimoid, but she said she needed a "beauty rest" anyway.

Since he didn't need to sleep, Momonga spent the next hour wandering the halls of the three floors alone, touching and staring at the sight that had once been mere pixels in a game. Now the whole place felt like something from a ruin a hundred or a thousand years old. It looked clean, and not overrun with vermin, dust, cobwebs-but there was still the feeling of stepping into a hallowed place.

Twice he went past the place where Sebas and Touch Me were deep in a conversation. The first time, he saw the human native, Nemu Emmot, curled up on a cot. He was sure the girl was scared of him, as she'd frozen up when she spied his form in the doorway. The second time he passed by that place, the girl was gone. He interrupted Sebas, who told him that she was not one to leave without at least saying goodbye.

Relieved, the thought that he needed to cast surveillance magic made Momonga decide to try another spell. He went to one of the smaller chambers and tried it.

[Mirror of Remote Viewing], a divination spell used for rudimentary intelligence gathering, had been an Yggdrasil staple on both versions. It allowed one to see a distant area as if one were physically there.

When he used it here, he was surprised to see a screen-like interface appear before him. Fiddling with the controls, he found that he could direct the "eye" more fluidly than in Yggdrasil.

He spent some time doing reconaissance this way. He was disappointed to only find miles of forest. He thought of finding a city, to see if Sebas had said the truth. And hopefully he could catch a glimpse of a Nazarick resident, hopefully without being detected in turn.

"Cool. Is that the [Mirror of Remote Viewing]?" said a voice behind him.

"Ah, Chagama-san. Not sleeping?" Momonga replied.

"Nope. Big shocker, apparently, there's some truth to all that lore thingie about slimes." The little girl sidled up to him, and peered at the display. "How far is it?" she asked.

"Although there was a limit back in the game... in here it seems to be unlimited. I've gone about..." He calculated blindly, though he couldn't really estimate just from seeing. He didn't have that skill. "... Like several miles now."

The two of them sat this way in silence, as he manipulated the display to try to catch a glimpse of any civilization.

"... Is something wrong, Chagama-san?" he asked, slightly unnerved by the total silence.

"Mm?" she said, a little distractedly. "No, there's nothing wrong, why?"

"W-well, if it's nothing, then it's alright," said Momonga. He scratched the dome of his skull.

Let it be said that Suzuki Satoru was a virgin, and had little experience with women. Although Chagama-san was a comrade, and a famous seiyuu at that, some fundamental part of him still saw her as a woman. Even now, even with him as a skeleton and her as a slime, the close proximity made him slightly uneasy and self-conscious, like if a beautiful person had suddenly sat beside him on the train. He thanked his undead trait and his skull-face that Chagama-san couldn't see his expression.

"...Hey."

"Hm?"

"In the... well-" she made a long sigh. "Back there, did I sound kind of stupid to you? Like, did I seem a lot more reckless or something?"

"Eh? Uh... no, not really." He actually didn't notice anything, having focused on other things like the fact that they were in this new world in new bodies. "Although I'm not really the best to ask about that sort of thing... Wouldn't Peroroncino-san know better?"

She raised a brow. "How would that idiot know?"

"Well, you're siblings, right?"

She frowned. "Heh. There is that. But I can safely assure you that I know him better than the other way around. Anyway, I can't talk to him right now-because I have the sneaking suspicion that he's masturbating in his little sexbot's rooms." She wrinkled her nose.

"W-What? Seriously?" _Peroroncino!_ Thinking on it though, it made sense, but was he really that much of a pervert to do it now of all times?

Chagama-san snorted. "The guy's got the drive of a sex-starved gorilla all the time... Well, you would know right? Aren't you a guy and all?"

"Well, yeah, but I can assure you I would not go to that extent." But he knew there were all sorts of people out there.

A small grin appeared on her face, and she leaned closer. "Really? So you're not at all disturbed by how this little girl (slime) is setting up so deep in your space?"

"Haah? I... I am-" He stuttered. _So she did know? And now she knows that I know! Chagama-san, you're a scary woman..._

"Hohohoh~" she said, purring in delight.

Hoping to shake off his embarrassment, he said, "But it's just that... well right now I'm practically a skeleton. With all the limitations of the body type."

Chagama-san sighed, and turned away. "Ah... that makes sense. Mhm. Yes, I do understand. It's just like me." She pointed to her chest. "This slime body's not cute at all... Even if I designed it to be, fundamentally it's still an oozing monster." She sighed. Momonga didn't know if the melancholy was feigned or not. "Forget attracting the fans, I'll probably only end up being the idol of a pervert sect of people. Yep, otouto told me about that particular fetish. Huhuhuhu... In fact, aren't I just totally asexual now? Imagine that, a girl reduced to this..."

Being of little experience, Momonga could not find a way to answer. Especially with her so close to him, distracting him. He racked his brains for trace memories of things he saw in the past, then opened his mouth and hoped he could say the right thing.

"P-Please don't say that!"

His sudden shout made her flinch. "Heh?"

Swallowing spit that wasn't there anymore, he continued, "E-Even if you're like that, a-and I'm like this, we're still the same inside! You're still the pretty and cute Kazecchin, a-and I'm just the ordinary salaryman Suzuki-kun! So please don't say that you're no longer cute, or, or, beautiful, because you still are, Chagama-san." Thanks to no longer having eyes and eyelids he couldn't afford to squeeze his eyes shut from the shame.

The little girl's face looked perplexed. "A-aaah... Yeah, thank you Momonga-shi. H-how do I say it... that's the kind of thing one can honestly expect from you. Heheh." A faint expression of happiness came to her face. She beamed. "You just made this old lady smile a little, even if you can't see it." Chagama-san then thrust a finger at him. "But I'll only say this once, okay? That sort of cheesy lines can only work in anime, you know? They're touching and all, but what really gets to the ladies are totally different things. So when we get back to the real world, please don't use those types of half-baked lines anymore, okay?"

Feeling slightly intimidated, Momonga could only nod. "Y-yeah... I got it..."

Chagama-san nodded to herself, muttering "good, good". "Still... thanks, Momonga-san. I think my love meter just rose~" She winked.

If he could blush, he would have. "P-Please don't joke about things like that..."

As if ignoring his shame, Chagama-san continued to speak to herself. "Hehe~ This is great... who knew Momonga-shi was a lady-killer, I guess late bloomers have their charms...?"

Trying to ignore the Chagama-san who was saying "Fufufu...", Momonga concentrated on widening his search with the mirror.

The view instantly changed from the green forest, to something far more different. His eyes widened.

"Th-this is..!"

Beside him, Chagama-san gasped. "W-what's going on there?"

"We have to tell the others!" said Momonga determinedly, hauling himself up and transmitting a quick [Message] to everyone.

They all met back at the Floor Guardian's quarters. Momonga showed them what he'd seen using the [Mirror of Remote Viewing].

In a word, it was nearly a mirror image of the Nazarick cemetery outside. Except-

It was a far less clean, and a more hellish place. The land was ashen-colored, like a sore standing out amid the surrounding green forest. The ruins of what looked to be houses dotted the area.

What first drew Momonga's gaze were the mountains of corpses piled like hills in the area. Almost all of these were of humans. Their conditions ranged from just rotting, completely rotten, to skeletons with pieces of tattered flesh hanging on. The sight of one was enough to make anyone's stomach seize and hurl; and indeed even the bloodthirsty Ulbert-san couldn't help but make a disgusted sound. Though Momonga could no longer feel sick, he still felt supremely uneasy.

Skeletons, their eyes glowing with malice, wandered the areas around the corpse-hills. There were so many of them; their numbers making them like ants bustling hungrily over pieces of dropped food. Some of the skeletons wore armor, and a few even had what looked like magically-enchanted arms.

"A dumping ground...?"

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Who would do something like this?" said Herohero.

Wishing to spare his comrades from staring at the sight for too long, he turned the view over to the left. There, past something that looked like barricades, was a sleek, and short tower-like structure. It looked like a lighthouse shortened at the tip. It had a demonic-like menace to it, with spikes jutting out from its length. On each spiketip was a human skull. At the top of the structure was a platform, from which winged creatures emerged.

They all recognized these as a familiar type of gargoyle. They emerged, flew around the tower; some even went down to glide over the corpses below.

"Are those...?"

"Yep."

"If it's our guys then they're definitely going down."

"What do you think it is, some sort of... guard tower?"

"We need to take out this whole operation..."

No long speeches needed to be said. Everyone understood. Even Momonga, who was a skeleton, felt his entire frame clattering from the sheer anger he felt.

"There's one more thing," said Momonga, who turned the view over to the other side of the area, again past the corpse hills. This time, there was an opulent-looking house which looked completely out of place in this desolation. The whole thing gave off a feeling of nobility, even for its small size. Around its perimeter was a fierce-looking series of barbed fences.

"I wonder who'd live in this place?" said Peroroncino.

"Probably the master of this area? Maybe this is like a small town or something."

"Nay, milords," came Sebas' voice from behind. They looked and saw that beside him was Nemu, her face grim as she stared at the display. "That is the abode of Shalltear Bloodfallen's representative to this... this place."

They could see that Sebas Tian shared their sentiments about the images they were seeing.

"Sebas Tian! What is this...?" said Touch Me.

"Mmm... My apologies for delaying. That is known all around as the 'Crossroads', milords. Once, it had been the site of a small village of humans. Then tragedy struck... some sort of bandit trouble. I regret to say that I am not really sure about the details. Then, this was later, when we explored the area, we found the ruins of the village, and it was there that some of us wanted to create a new town, a... 'city fit for the Supreme Beings'."

"That doesn't look like something anyone of us would ever live in, not even in all eternity," said Ulbert.

Sebas bowed. "The idea was soon abandoned when our madness escalated. The foundations remained there, as you can see. Some time later, there were rumors of certain undead activity in the ruins. I thought perhaps that it was due to our brief presence there, but I couldn't be sure." He glanced at Nemu, who was practically shaking as she stared at the image.

"Powerful ghosts and wraiths were then said to inhabit that place," said Sebas. "This was during the countless wars. Troops of deserters, scouts from an army, even the odd adventurer team were said to have come to that place, and never come back. In time, it seemed like their ghosts only joined their number, bolstering them."

"That was... Carne Village," said Nemu, her voice faint, but clear. They all looked at her, her head bowed, expression looking like she wanted to cry. "That was my home."

* * *

She always remembered the screams. Every memory before that fateful day had disappeared from her mind. She was thus left with no happy memories of family and love.

From then on, there was only pain, anguish, fear, and endless toil.

Among all those slain in Carne Village, she had been the only one to survive. Those were hellish days; fleeing through the forest, with only her wits.

She vaguely remembered being helped by a kind creature, whose eyes held a veritable wisdom. It seemed to have helped her, as the next thing she knew she was being picked up by a kindly family just outside E-Rantel.

It was probably around this time that she forgot the bad things in the village. They had always said that she had been a quiet girl when she'd been picked up, and it had taken months for her to open up to her adoptive family.

The family was from the Empire. They had not intended to adopt a child into their family, but the circumstances changed their mind.

She had gotten a measure of love. She might even have grown to consider them true family, had they not died from a freak accident not too long after.

Then, she was sent to the orphanage, where her age drew numerous abuse.

That was when the "fierce" Nemu was born. She struck back against her bullies, with a fierce strength that bordered on superhuman. Though admonished by the adults, there were those who saw potential in her gutsy nature. Had they not intervened, it was certain that Nemu would have either been captured into debauched slavery, sold to fight at the arena, or become an adventurer.

Thus, she was enrolled into the training facility for the Imperial Knights. She slowly rose up the ranks, surviving the yearly skirmishes with the Kingdom as a squire, then a legionnaire, then finally, as a knight. Her particular skills were bent to scouting, so she was assigned to an elite scout squad, responsible for reconnaissance and intelligence-gathering on the field.

This was when humanity was reeling from the demonic forces of the Demon King, Jaldabaoth.

In order to glean more information about the threat, she and her fellows were sent on a harrowing mission to the "Dread Forest".

After weeks of surveying, they had come to the conclusion was that there were no threats from this place.

Then they had stumbled on the ruins of Carne.

She had not recognized it at first. She had only seen a place riddled with nightmares from the other side of death. Ghosts, zombies, and wraiths assailed them. They had swiftly called for a retreat.

Then Nemu saw her.

Even years later, even after she'd forgotten everything-when she saw her, she remembered.

"Big sis..."

Upon hearing those words, the dread wraith that held the image of her beloved sister morphed into a hideous creature. Its wail cracked the armor on her body. Darkness overcame her.

She awoke much later at the camp of the survivors. It had been fortunate that another knight had seen her pass out. That was enough to extract her before the undead could drag her to join their number.

But ever since then, her thoughts returned again and again to the near-transparent image of her sister. She remembered things in piecemeal now. How her sister smelled, after a day at the field. Father's laugh. Mother's smile. Her sister telling her stories before sleep.

Her sister, pushing her away, telling her to _run run run so she could live, so she could live-_

Was it guilt? Love? A sense of obligation? From that moment on, she thought to amass enough power and return to that place. She served the army zealously, hoping for the war to end so she could assemble a group and exorcise her sister, and anyone else trapped in that place.

Things would not be so easy.

Humanity failed.

Assembling a mighty force had become laughably impossible.

Still, she would not be deterred. She would free her sister, even if it demanded her own life be lost in exchange.

* * *

"... After their final victory, the two major powers decided to partition their territories," Sebas continued. "Incidentally, the ruins of this 'Carne Village' was the only place where their borders intersected. Thus, it was designated as a 'crossroads' of sorts. Both sides view the area as a 'neutral zone'.

"Corpses which could not be reused, or were deemed unfit to be raised, are constantly sent here by the wagonload." Sebas' mouth twisted in distaste. "Over time, the mass of negative energies bred new undead from the pile. With each fresh batch, their numbers rise, further empowering the negative energy in the ground." Sebas hesitated, then added, "I believe their intention was to get enough corpses to slowly convert this whole forest into a wasteland of negative energy.

"In addition to the representatives sent to guard it, the area is also home to several powerful undead." Sebas glanced uneasily at Nemu. The girl's whole story had saddened Momonga, though a part of him recognized that in the greater scope of things, it was a minor tragedy at best. Still, he did not mention that out loud. "Aside from deadly wraiths, there is also a creature formed from the amalgamation of a hundred corpses. Apparently, it was formed around the essence of a legendary warrior."

"Sebas."

"... Yes, milord Touch Me?" The butler looked at his Creator.

"In all this time, you never attempted to purify the place?"

Sebas flinched, as if he had been struck. He swallowed. "I... I surely do not have any excuse, milord. Please forgive this worthless self."

Momonga took one final look at the Crossroads, then cancelled the magic. He turned to the others. "Then, everyone: should we cleanse that place?"

Everyone nodded. "Absolutely," said Herohero.

"It's a start," said Ulbert, shrugging.

"It'll definitely put us in conflict with the 'masters'," said Herohero.

Ulbert chuckled. "Oh, that'd be fine and dandy. Let them know that judgment day has come. Bring the power, bring the thunder!"

"The only problem is... no one here's actually a priest-type, right?" said Peroroncino. "So we can't do anything about the evil ground over there..."

"Hum, good point," said Touch Me. "But we can leave that for later. For now, we should give peace to the undead, and then bring those 'representatives' to justice."

"You're going to spare them?" asked Ulbert. "After everything they did?"

"They are but children, who've misbehaved-yes, in a major way-but children still. We must take responsibility for their actions, no matter how horrifying they have been."

"They're not our responsibility," said Chagama-san. Herohero nodded silently, agreeing.

Momonga watched anxiously as Touch Me stared at the others. He glanced at the kowtowing Sebas. Then, it seemed that he came to an unheard decision. "... We can talk about the details later. First, this. Then..."

They agreed to take a short break to prepare. For Sebas, who deemed the creatures in that place trivial, the Players who were on a magnitude far above the butler would barely even consider the place a speedbump. It was like shaking off dirt from one's hair. Yet they still needed to equip themselves accordingly-showing that the years of PK and PKK life were deeply ingrained in them.

Momonga went up to the surface, mentally preparing himself for the job to come. In truth, for Momonga-san who was also [God of Unlife] the situation with the undead reminded him of a unique opportunity, much like Chagama-san's request to resurrect the humans.

As was explained to him in the manual, he was [God of Unlife]. Leaving aside gameplay details such as the new spells, the World Items and the [Soul] equipment slot, the title also carried a significant flavor that was, in Tabula-san's words, unique. According to what he'd read, he was [God of Unlife], a being occupying a portfolio opposite that of the [God of Life]. The latter had not yet been born, since no qualifying player had Ascended to the title.

Gods were said to fit the players who became them. The first God was the [God of Thunder], and he had been a gnome battle-mage specializing in lightning magic. He was a dream-builder like Momonga, though only he or his guildmates could say what kind of character he was aiming for. At first, the connection between God and player spec had been coincidence.

Then had come the [God of the Unseen Strike], who had been a Player using a specialized build revolving around the [Stealth] mechanic. He was said to start and end his PKing with [Stealth]. There had been widespread discussion there, since "Unseen Strike" was unusual and oddly specific, while "Thunder" was familiar and general, calling back to the myriad gods of thunder in human mythology. Some speculated (correctly as it turned out), that the data crystal gave a Player a title befitting his spec.

This was then confirmed when a Player generally acknowledged as a roleplaying fanatic became [God of Magic]. He was said to have learned a host of spells (though far lesser than Momonga and others with Dark Wisdom) and had hoarded spell-wands and scrolls for every known spell in the game (which Momonga and the others never did).

This strange criteria of godhood would not have been a problem, had Players not noted that World items belonging to a specialized God were subpar to those with dream-builds. The [God of the Unseen Strike], for example, had been given a World item that was functionally similar to a rare Divine-item from a difficult boss. Meanwhile, the [God of Thunder] had an item that could lash a whole world with a thunderstorm lasting for an hour.

There had been a lot of complaints to the developers. But the shitty devs just replied that what they had seen was probably a coincidence, and that everything related to the Deity system was working as intended.

No one took their word for it.

In [Ainz Ooal Gown], Momonga became the perfect guinea pig, a mark to prove the connection. As his dream build revolved around the mystique of being an undead, he rose to become [God of Unlife]. Tabula wondered if somewhere there was a criteria for "Dead", "Death", or "of the Undead", but for now, it was clear that the dream build had actually given Momonga a significant power boost.

Momonga himself knew well how big it was, since he was the only one who could examine the new spells he'd acquired. Right now, in this strange world, he recalled several spells that basically ensured that no undead would be free from his grasp. He wondered if he should use that at the Crossroads-activating the spell to test its use and see if such an overpowered spell was truly as effective as he thought.

"But perhaps such a thing should be held in reserve..." he muttered to himself. "Trump cards should be saved until the last..."

"Um... Exalted God Momonga?"

Hearing the unusual title made him turn.

"Nemu Emmot?"

* * *

She knew it was madness. To dare speak to someone whom even the great Sebas, savior of humanity, bowed down. That was especially true for this one, who was acknowledged as the leader of these strange monsters that had arrived, and was also said to be an actual God.

Nemu had no use for gods. Back in the Empire, there had been temples dedicated to this or that god. But she was not a divine magic caster, and never would be. Such things were only lip service to someone who had endured hell, over and over.

But that was before today, when she'd stood in the presence of divinity personified. If someone had told her that the six monsters had been gods, then she would have believed it. Their sheer presences felt like she was standing in the middle of a raging whirlpool-spared for a whim. And the lich, most of all, had a truly oppressive aura about it that would have made her flee in terror if not for Sebas' assurances.

And then they had said that they weren't truly gods, but that the lich was an acknowledged god by right. She didn't understand why there was a need for distinction, but she didn't mind that.

What she did mind, were the words she was going to say to this god.

"Great lord," she said, when the lich had turned around to acknowledge her. She got to her knees, and kept her eyes to the floor. "Please, allow me to beg a boon from you. I would trade anything from this worthless self, in exchange."

She didn't know how such bargains usually worked, but she hoped it would accept. She knew she had practically nothing to give, but she pushed for a bargain anyway. She only had her daggers with her, and the bottle of red liquid. There was her clothes, which were dirty and tattered. Then there was her body, the almost universal currency.

"Umu. Go on," he said, after a long moment.

She allowed herself to take a breath. "Please... please grant me power!"

"Power?" The lich made a sound like it was exhaling. Or was it about to laugh? She couldn't tell. "... That is not something I can easily grant. Why do you need it?"

"My sister. I need to free her."

"Ah, I remember. Yes, your story was sad. I am sorry for your loss," said the lich, in a tone which suggested it wasn't sorry at all. She almost got furious over the casual dismissal of her sister, but she relented. "Then, there is no need. For we shall put an end to that 'Crossroads'. You humans shall not need to fear them any longer, I can assure you."

So in exchange for their current tyrants, they'd put themselves up as the new masters? But that wasn't what she wanted to address. She said, "I understand full well, milord. Their bodies are but dust before your eyes."

The lich made a peculiar sound. It sounded like "fufufu". "Indeed," he said. "The undead are but playthings dancing in my palm."

"But I would beg to be the one to put my sister to rest, oh Great One," she said. "I sincerely thank you, on behalf of humanity, for what you are about to do. But I only wish for a tiny amount of power, that I may put her to rest by myself."

"This type of speech seems quite familiar..." the lich murmured. "But still, I'm afraid I do not have anything that you can use."

She recognized that the refusal had some reason behind it. "My pardons, Great Momonga, but I only wished for a fragment of thy power, however temporary. I am well aware of my own limitations. Perhaps, just a boon!"

"Something like a buff? I am not sure if it's a good idea..."

"A... weapon then? One that can cut through ethereal sinew!"

"Ah, giving you a weapon seems a bit much... and I'm not even sure if you can equip it."

"Then-"

"No, no, it's better if you stay here with Sebas. I sincerely apologize, but I believe that is the best position for you."

"Please milord," said Nemu, hearing the refusal but in turn refusing to relent. "If I do not do this, then my whole life will have been a great waste. If I allow someone else to banish my sister for me, I wouldn't be able to live anymore!"

"Surely you exaggerate-"

The god must be testing her resolve, like what she remembered from stories. It would only be moved by an act of selfless heroism-or wholehearted sacrifice.

Suddenly she knew what to do.

She unsheathed her dagger, quick as lightning, then held the tip to her neck. She felt a prick of pain-the blade was so sharp that it cut with just a touch.

"Oi, what do you think you're doing?"

Still not looking up, Nemu said, "Oh great lord of Unlife, grant me but a sliver of your power. In exchange, take my body, to use as you see fit. Let my blood and my soul be a sacrifice worthy of even the smallest of your favors." She recited it all with the same timbre as some priests she'd heard.

"Look, I am saying that, even if you got buffed, you still don't-"

 _Wait for me, sister_. These were her last thoughts as she willingly plunged the dagger into her neck.

* * *

Momonga stared at the twitching corpse that had once been Nemu Emmot.

He'd watched her slump to the floor, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

 _What?_ It took him a good while for his nonexistent brain to restart functioning.

"Th-this is bad!" he shouted. "Everyone! Hey everyone! Sebas! Help! Nemu is- oh, damn it... [Message]! Help! Help! I'm outside! Nemu just stabbed herself!"

* * *

 **Shurpuff says: Another chapter done.**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **More to come.**

P.S. There were some requests about the second fic I mentioned last chapter. I said that I wouldn't publish it. So, to give you guys a reason why, as well as a glimpse of the horribleness, I've added a little sketch below. It's the Mare/Entoma thing. Yeah. Definitely don't read below if you're not interested. Seriously don't. This is not part of the story Godsfall.

I've abbreviated names. It'll be obvious who is who.

 _...Ma squirmed, his legs straining in the grip of his own spun web. E's mandibles was firmly clamped on his organ, each sucking motion coaxing more and more of his precious seed from him. The feeling of being trapped by his own devices, helpless, then slowly but surely sucked of all vitality by a predatory thing concentrated all his sensations towards that part, like being forced to ejaculate again and again. He knew, even shapeshifted, that he could break the bonds easily, but something in him, some dark, twisted, thing told him to relax, to loosen his guard, to let the inevitable pass._

 _Meanwhile Mo continued his pistoning motions into E's slimy depths. Because of the different anatomy, there was little pleasure coming to him, but for the heady feeling of anticipation towards the prospect of impregnating this female in front of him. He supposed he was lucky in that he was in a more dominating role, weren't insects really weird in their after-care? Eating their mates and all that? He couldn't remember. His insectile brain only told him to keep pumping, as if the future of his species depended upon it. Ma and E's heated, nigh incoherent moans helped to stoke a little of his fire._

 _"E-SaN... n... nO morE..."_

 _"M-M-dOnO... *shlurp!* *shluuurp!* dEEliCiOus..."_

... Like I said, the idea's really cringe-worthy, and I'm hesitant to have it published.

So... abracadabra, forget all about it and all that. Whooosh.

 **Don't read the above! Warning!**

 **Don't read the above! Warning!**


	7. The Making of Nemu Emmot

It was a painful scene.

Following Momonga's desperate summons, the rest of the Supreme Beings, plus Sebas, hurried to his side. They beheld the terrible sight of Momonga repeatedly using a resurrection wand on Nemu Emmot's bleeding body.

"What's going on?"

"Eh? Eh?"

Sebas knew, the instant he saw the corpse, that there was nothing to be done. He averted his eyes from the sight-his heart was agitated, and he did not wish to seem unsightly in front of the Supreme Beings.

While the four other Players gawked, Chagama-san charged to the body, producing her own wands. Like Momonga, she cast spell after spell, crying the girl's name repeatedly. The others, having not been to Chagama-san and Momonga's foray to the outside, could only mimic them in drawing out their own resurrection items and using them on the girl.

In some aspect, the scene was like a set of fumbling EMTs trying to resuscitate somebody who was already long dead.

Momonga revealed several of his trump cards-the [Void Dredge] and its greater version-but despite their connections to his godly portfolio, Nemu never stirred.

Finally, when it seemed that nothing they tried worked, they ceased their efforts.

"No... No..." sobbed Chagama-san, cradling the girl's head in her arms. "How did this...?"

An uneasy Ulbert explained to the others what the two had tried to the other dead people, of how the magic of resurrection didn't seem to work in this world. The others were confused, but before they could accept that fact, the fact that there was no coming back from death, Sebas said-

"I'm sorry my august lords, but that is not entirely true."

They all turned to look at him. Despite having the attention of all of his creators, his back remained sharp and straight, though his expression was sorrowful.

"Resurrection is indeed possible, but there are conditions. One such condition is that-the target must accept the resurrection."

"Accept? Why wouldn't anyone accept?" asked Ulbert. "Should not everyone be glad of a second life? To feel their heart beat tumultuously, to the chaos of living?"

Surprisingly, it was Herohero who offered the next remark: "Well, I guess I can understand it. If I were in their shoes, I wouldn't want to go back to this terrible world. It's all so tiring, and scary. You know? If you're just like a normal person- But even if we're talking the previous world, if we had the technology to revive, I'd definitely say no way, sir. I've already lived one shitty life."

"But why would Nemu-chan refuse. I mean, why would she even do this?" said Peroroncino, gesturing to her body. "I thought she wanted to help her sister?"

"She did," Momonga said. His voice was subdued, so that got everyone's attention. He looked at them, his face sad and apologetic. "She wanted... well, she wanted my help." And then he explained what he could recall about her plea to him.

"Power? For such a thing you would... you idiot...!" Chagama-san wailed at Nemu's serene face.

"She was just so full of life... Like a spunky little sister who could do no wrong..." said Peroroncino. "But was it just my own selfish impression...?"

"I am truly sorry, everyone," said Momonga, bowing his head at the waist. "If only I had handled this situation better, I would've..."

No one wanted to blame Momonga-san; they well knew that they didn't even have the right. If Nemu had come to them, then it was still likely that she would've thought the same and sacrificed herself, thinking them powerful gods when they were nothing but. Even Touch Me admitted privately to himself that he would not have been able to dissuade the girl's mistaken notions-until it was too late.

The six stared bitterly at Nemu's body for a good long while. Despair rotted in their hearts, inexplicably starker now than when they'd buried those others. Their intention to "raid" the Crossroads was very far from their minds in that moment.

"Is there really nothing we can do?" Chagama-san asked.

They glanced uneasily among themselves. If resurrection would not work, then there was nothing they could do. There was perhaps one spell that could have worked-the rumored [Wish] spell contained in the Shooting Star ring, but none of them had obtained it in the rebooted Yggdrasil. It hadn't been a lottery item like before.

"There is... technically one other way," said Momonga, though he hesitated in saying so.

Everyone looked puzzled; only Ulbert chuckled, a bit hysterically. "Certainly, we can turn her into an undead."

The others shook their heads frantically.

"No, even for taking responsibility, that's still a bit too far, Momonga-san," said Herohero.

"N-no, of course not. What a terrible thing to even consider!" said Momonga, flailing his hands. "It's... there is a spell."

"What is it?"

* * *

Like any good PKer, Momonga studied every aspect of his abilities without fail. 2000 spells? No problem.

When he got new spells from the Deity system, he made sure to read them, then catalogue their uses away for future use. Some he classified trump cards, others pointless roleplay skills. A few he considered intriguing, but he was either too afraid to consider their use, or was confused about their function.

[Create Avatar].

 _"Bestow one's divine essence to create an alter ego, which will act as an extension of the Deity's will..._

 _"... The created Avatar will always be Level 1, but will gain extra abilities and stats depending on the amount of experience used. Like the Champion and the Herald, the Avatar's life is tied to the God that created it, and shall only truly die if the God title is lost..."_

He could sacrifice his experience to create a so-called powerful minion. However, Momonga didn't consider casting it, as the description of the minion being Level 1 rang some bells. An appropriate "level death" spell would eliminate the minion immediately.

There were two other lesser spells.

[Create Herald], which cost less experience, required an object, and bestowed half the stats and abilities.

Then, [Create Champion], which cost just a bit of experience, required a willing body, but also only bestowed a quarter of the stats and abilities.

All three created Level 1 minions. The last one he ignored in particular, because he had powerful summons who could function better, without any experience cost. He didn't even know what abilities the minion might have.

While the others tried resurrecting Nemu, he'd been thinking about these three spells. They might work; they might not. Yet it was frightening to even consider.

Because he was going to do it to a person he'd just met, a once living person.

Yet this was the last shot. Their only shot. Even if it could not even be called a true resurrection.

He would just be creating a [Minion], out of the body that was Nemu Emmot. If it even worked, the lore text would imply that this was not truly the same person as before.

Momonga was scared. If he could be terrified, he could've dissolved into panic. But his undead trait straightened him; which somehow made enduring the feeling even worse.

He swallowed. He knew his friends were waiting for his explanation. He opened his mouth.

"I... I might have one last thing."

* * *

"... so if this follows the rules of Yggdrasil, then Nemu Emmot might become the 'reagent' for me to create a unique type of [Minion]," concluded Momonga.

"Did the spell mention anything else? Any weaknesses, anything else required?" Peroroncino pressed.

Momonga hesitated. "I don't think so. Well, there is the experience requirement. I don't know how it translates to this world."

"Maybe you'll forget some skills," said Ulbert. "Or it could just 'depower' you, if that makes sense."

They all understood a little of Momonga's reluctance. The magic casters in particular had powerful high-tier spells that required a hefty amount of experience. In Yggdrasil, it was only a matter of building it back up, but in this world, the sudden decrease in power level might be bad.

The Players well understood the power that would be needed to intervene in this world. They couldn't just be "normal" humans anymore.

"... Do it," said Chagama-san. She looked up from Nemu. "Do it, Momonga-san."

"... She'll be a slave," said Touch Me. The others tensed, but said nothing. The masked hobo continued, "But more importantly, she'll be alive. And even more, I know I can trust Momonga with her life. Should the circumstances warrant, even I'd put myself in his power."

"Th-that's a bit much..." Momonga's disguised face blushed.

"Huh. Well that's true, Guildmaster."

"Unlike those others," said Herohero, referring to the other humans who refused. "We know Nemu's clearly got a job she needs to do. We must help her-this is the beginning of our atonement."

"Atonement?" asked Ulbert.

"Atonement?" repeated Touch Me.

Herohero regarded the two. "For me, it is."

Touch Me looked at Sebas, who bowed. Then he looked down at Nemu. "... Perhaps."

"Whatever," said Ulbert. "Still, I am in favor of the spell. Do it, Guildmaster."

Peroroncino nodded, clapping Momonga on the back. "Show us the [God of Unlife]'s power, Momonga-san."

Momonga swallowed, seeing the convictions in his comrades' eyes. Then he took a determined breath.

"Very well. The vote is unanimous: use the spell to make Nemu a Champion. I shall be starting."

Momonga took a step forward. Bukubukuchagama stood and backed away, until all the Supreme Beings stood around the corpse in a circle. To Sebas, it appeared like the beginnings of a strange ritual.

Momonga raised his hand, holding it palm down over Nemu's body. "[Create Champion]!"

Everyone held their breath.

There was a roar.

Just like the [Void Dredge] a sheet of pure darkness covered the body like smoke. Then, various circles, like the elaborately designed ones used in super-tier magic, each layered on top of each other, appeared above and below the body.

Purple chains, numerous in number, emerged from the circles on the top, embedding themselves below. Then there was the creaking sound of something heavy being dragged upward, each of the chains straining mightily.

A moment later, a pale human hand emerged from the darkness. Like a zombie emerging from the ground, the rest of its body followed-head, shoulders, body, and on and on.

It rose from the ground, like a puppet carried on purple strings. To the Players, it was a pale, naked figure, with barely any recognizable features. Only the head and the face vaguely reminded them of Nemu Emmot, but even that was an unsure thing.

Then, something appeared that shocked the six Players.

"Whoa!"

"It can't be...!"

Momonga gasped, his lower jaw hanging open.

Appearing right before the girl was a familiar interface. It was the same interface one used to interact with an object back in Yggdrasil. It was used to add features to a base, change one's appearance-or customize an NPC. Its sudden appearance jolted their minds.

"A-Are we back in the game?"

Momonga quickly put his hand forward, thinking there would be a keyboard appearing. But nothing appeared. Touching the interface, however, made a small flash.

Then, he felt something come to his mind.

"This is... [Customize]!" he murmured.

"But is it Nemu?" asked Chagama-san.

"I believe so. See this?" Momonga pointed to the name on top of the interface. The name there said "Nemu Emmot-human".

They stared at the white, unmoving figure.

"For such a thing to appear here, and now..." said Touch Me.

"Hm?" Everyone gasped when the figure suddenly changed. Suddenly, Nemu appeared thinner, and had elongated ears.

"I just touched it..." said Momonga. There, on top of the interface, it now said, "Nemu Emmot-elf".

Momonga tapped it again. And again. Each time, Nemu became a different race-dwarf, gnome, to orc, goblin, reptile-man, rat-man, then to dragonoid, slimoid, shambler, mind-flayer-and then back to human.

"Customize!?" Peroroncino cried. "She can be _customized_?"

"Wait a second, give it here." Without warning, Ulbert reached out to grab the interface. Momonga was still too dazed about this new appearance that he didn't even protest.

Ulbert touched some other areas on the interface. "Oh. This is exactly like the NPC creation used in Yggdrasil. We used this to create people like Sebas over there, guys." They could not deny that fact. Everyone here had a hand in creating an NPC in Nazarick, after all. In the reboot, they'd never had a chance to create their own yet.

"See this? This changes appearance," said Ulbert. Nemu's milky white skin then changed color; with another button she "grew" older, or had a younger body. Another for hair, for skin markings, scars, and other features-

"And it's only for the human template." A quick switch to the vampire template demonstrated different options.

"Hmm? Wait a second: if this is the same as Yggdrasil, then it makes sense for this-" Peroroncino withdrew a low-level weapon from his item box, then placed it "on" Nemu, exactly like he was giving an item for an NPC to equip.

"Whoa!" Now Nemu was wearing the weapon on her right hand.

Everyone looked at each other. "Momonga-san," said Herohero. "This is a pretty wacky spell right here. We can pretty much dictate how strong Nemu can become."

"Y-yeah..." said Momonga, who looked uneasy. "It looks like we can do this much before finalizing it... Should we change her 'settings'?"

"Why not?" Ulbert said eagerly. "She wanted power, right? Let's give her all the power she needs!"

 _Though she's only level one_ , Momonga didn't say.

"But only to that extent!" Chagama-san said, putting her foot down. "We are not making her different. We are not making her younger, or older; we are not making her something like an angel race, a valkyrie, a lamia, nor even a goddamned succubus!"

"Aww..." said Peroroncino.

"'Aww' nothing, stupid little brother. If we can't even do that, then this won't be Nemu Emmot at all!" Momonga suppressed the shudder rushing through his bones when he heard those words.

"Hum. Agreed," said Touch Me. "Though I preferred that we couldn't customize her at all; but if it's like this, we should endeavor to grant her wishes. At least for the sake of the Nemu who so believed that the 'gods' would grant her power. yet only died in vain."

"Then, let us start," said Momonga. "Excuse me, Ulbert-san." He took the interface back. Then he looked at his guildmates, nodding grimly at each of them.

"Her name shall forever be Nemu Emmot."

"Agreed."

"She shall be a human."

"Agreed."

"Then, we shall make this a collab project. We shall assign people to specific customizations. Any objections?"

* * *

Sebas Tian felt more than honored: he was completely awed and humbled by the sight. This was perhaps the rarest and most precious scene that any Nazarick creation would ever witness-to watch the Supreme Beings craft a life with their own hands. Molding it from the mud of creation, sculpting it to a certain shape, and granting it wisdom and power-this was indeed the Supreme Beings at their best; and though they would deny it to him, he knew they were indeed gods.

Sebas questioned if he deserved his place at the Creators' side. He largely felt that he should not even be standing here, like he was disturbing hallowed ground.

He felt much like the clueless child, who stumbles upon one's mother just as she gives birth. The butler's body was filled with a hitherto unknown delight, crawling up from his toes to the tips of his hair, filling every muscle and nerve in his body with the pure joy and admiration of a child for its sire.

Touch Me granted her twin weapons forged from the deepest pits of Hel, a bow strung from a piece of the World Tree's bark and the hair of a Great Behemoth.

Bukubukuchagama gave her the suit she wore, light and soft to the touch but enchanted to be stronger than adamantium; an amulet she wove around her neck, radiant as an evening star.

Peroroncino breathed mana into her equipment, granting her all manners of blessings; and placed rings on all her fingers, each holding certain words of Power.

Herohero foresaw her worth as a shadow walker, and granted her mystical abilities to aid her quest: spells to move unseen through Shadow, to strike unerringly, and to bring down the Undead.

Ulbert ripped her fate from the Book of Destiny, and wrote a brand new page inside; forever binding her to [Ainz Ooal Gown], and to the great Guildmaster who leads them all.

And finally, Momonga gave her the spark of life.

Watching it all, from start to end; unbidden tears trickled down Sebas' cheeks.

* * *

Momonga confirmed the selection.

Immediately, the chains ripped themselves from Nemu's body like puppet-strings being suddenly cut. Then, a great wave of light filled the chamber.

Momonga never looked away.

Smoke filled the room.

"... Thank you for allowing this unworthy self to witness this, oh great Supreme Ones," came Sebas' hoarse voice.

No one responded to Sebas. Everyone looked anxiously towards the center, where Nemu was supposed to be. It was not unlike a group of students waiting for their project to be approved.

The smoke disappeared.

Nemu Emmot, reborn, Champion of Unlife, knelt at the center.

"I greet you, my creators," she said. "Oh great Supreme Beings of [Ainz Ooal Gown], permit this one to introduce oneself: I am the Champion Nemu Emmot, and forever I shall be your blade, and from the shadows I shall strike at your enemies."

Momonga couldn't help but feel nervous, waiting for her to say the magic words, to prove that he'd done the right thing.

Her eyes, almost glassy in appearance, stirred and locked onto him. She smiled.

"And thank you, Lord Momonga, for granting me this boon. For elevating this foolish self just for the sake of a selfish wish; this Champion shall serve you until the end of your days."

Momonga couldn't help but feel like he'd won the lottery.

All around, everyone exchanged relieved smiles; even Ulbert's grin had none of its irony. Sebas openly wept.

"Welcome, Nemu Emmot," Momonga said, holding out a hand to her. "Now you can fight at our sides; now you may free your beloved sister."

Nemu saluted. "Understood, Momonga-sama!"

She was immediately tackled by a tearful Chagama-san. "Nemu-chan~ Don't do that anymore okay? You really scared this sad nee-san, I thought you were gone for good..."

"Whoohooh! Resurrection success!" Peroroncino and Herohero slapped each other's backs.

"She's gonna so kick ass," declared the former.

"But a maid's outfit should've been better~" said the latter.

"Well, we'd probably screw it up, since Whitebrim-san ain't here..."

"Sebas, why are you crying?" asked Touch Me, concerned.

"Hmph. Amazing work, Guildmaster," Ulbert said. He put a hand to his forehead. "And to think... we have finally stepped on the great taboos of humanity. Nay, we have even exceeded them! We've created life out of nothing. Are we not all like gods now?"

Momonga raised a nonexistent brow. "W-Well, technically, yeah. This was a Deity-class spell..."

Ulbert shook his head. "Not what I meant-but never mind. It should be fine for now."

A moment later, Touch Me called for everyone to pay attention. Momonga stepped up, and attempted to project an authoritative presence.

"Everyone, now that we are all ready, we can begin with our next operation. The Raid: to tear down the Crossroads and free the souls trapped there shall henceforth commence!"

"What shall I do, honored lords?" asked Sebas.

"It would be better for you to remain-but come to think of it, other than Nemu you're the only other guide in this world, someone who knows the Nazarick delinquents."

"Delinquents?" Peroroncino asked, brow raised.

Momonga blinked. "Er... yeah, since they left the home and all, never came back, and did some questionable stuff while hanging outside... they're kind of like delinquents, right?"

Touch Me chuckled. "Momonga, your naming sense is truly astounding."

"Truly, it is," said Chagama-san.

Were they being sarcastic? Momonga wondered. Shaking off the feeling that he was being bullied, he continued. "Therefore you shall accompany us, Sebas. You shall guard the perimeter, and inform us if anyone else will be coming into the Crossroads."

"Understood."

"Finally, Nemu-san."

"Yes! Milord Momonga!" Nemu stood at attention, like a well-trained private.

"It's fine to be a bit less enthusiastic, you know..."

"Very well! Milord Momonga!"

"... In any case, while we assault the town, you shall seek out your sister. If anyone of us encounters her, we shall call on you, so be vigilant. Ah, Herohero-san, did you give her [Message]?"

The scarred yakuza shook his head. "I thought it wouldn't be that important."

"Hmm... though we do still have the scrolls-well, never mind. She is technically a [Minion] so normal rules should apply. I can [Recall] her if things go bad-"

"And if I should ever fail for any reason, milords," Nemu interjected. "I shall immediately be born again at Lord Momonga's side! For I am born of his very essence, and shall never fail until he does."

Her speech gave him another queasy feeling, but he shook it off. "Very good. Now, was there anything else before we go?"

"Ah, me, me!" said Chagama-san. "Is it alright if I bring my puppy along? I'd really love to try him now."

"Your puppy?" asked Momonga, tilting his head.

Peroroncino sighed. "She means her [Summoned Familiar]. It's that basic thing that all Summoners get."

Momonga made a sound of understanding. He recalled that she had taken levels in Summoner; and in Yggdrasil, Summoners were allowed a permanent pet-like summons who could aid its master in all things. Their forms usually ranged from normal beast types, to the ultra-customizable ones that one usually got from the Cash Shop. These allowed ridiculous things like familiars made from famous anime icons or TV celebrities-even an actual car. It had unnerved Momonga the first time seeing a moon buggy charging at him.

Although the Summoner could also call on a number of other beasts, only the Familiar never lost its power or its equipment when it died; indeed, a Summoner could dump data crystals into its familiar to permanently boost its stats or add abilities. And at a certain level, a summoner could even merge with one's familiar-

"It'll probably just be us going overkill over there, so I figured: why not cruise around and attack in style?" said Chagama-san. "Come out, [Producer-san]!"

Following a puff of pink smoke, a shape appeared right next to Chagama-san. Come to think of it, Momonga knew she'd had a summon, but had never seen it in action. Momonga waved the smoke away, impatient to see Chagama-san's "puppy".

His jaw dropped when he saw it. Herohero made a gasp of surprise.

Standing there was no puppy, Momonga. No puppy.

"Hoh. A splendid figure."

"Indeed, milord Touch Me," said Sebas. "It is a titan with a peerless form. I can feel its strength in my bones. It is a worthy familiar to a Supreme Being. Not since lady Albedo have I seen something so imbued with defensive strength."

"Even this newly minted Guardian feels... inadequate compared to this creature," said Nemu.

"That's..."

"Yep," said Peroroncino, rolling his eyes as if he'd already seen it all. "It's a Gundam."

"It's not a Gun-whatever you call it, little brother. This is my stalwart golem summon [Producer-san], the ideal boyfriend to a super idol like myself. He is kind, strong, silent, always protects me, and doesn't ever question my orders. [Merge]!"

As if defiling the dreams and aspirations of boys from throughout the centuries, the girl disappeared inside the pink-colored titan. Immediately, its eyes glowed, as if to indicate it had been activated. The twin cannons on each of its arms whirred to life.

"Hey, this is kind of cool! Now," said Chagama-san. "Let's do this!"

* * *

The Crossroads. The frontier of frontiers.

Even if they were ranged at opposite sides of the border, there seemed no tension between the appointed overseers of this area.

After all, fundamentally they had originally existed to serve under the Forty-One.

But some time ago, there had been some lines draw. Sides taken. And then, some mass cleaning of certain lands, to rid them of the filth.

Afterwards, all that was left was guarding the remains, and enforcing the will of the Forty-One to all who would submit.

One could say that the leader of the gargoyles on one side, and the vampire lady on the other would have, at another more idyllic time, served together in peace and harmony. Yet even now, they exercise that, when they're sure no one was watching.

Occasionally they'd play games using human heads, tossing them over the border like improvised volleyball. Of course, neither side knew what "volleyball" was, but they enjoyed a facsimile of the game nonetheless. Or they'd enjoy a spot of tea made by the vampire, brewed from the freshest ingredients. Everyone sat on their side of the table that was placed over the border.

It was all just to stave off the boredom. With the wars over, there were no other duties but to guard.

One night, the leader of the gargoyles felt something trip the security wards.

On the other side, the vampire lady was interrupted from playtime by the very same alert.

On both sides of the border, these two overseers smiled. Like bored hunters will become excited when they hear a rustling in the bush, likewise these two overseers acted the same, spurred by the prospect of seeing at least some blood.

They would savor these intruders before the undead could reach them-honestly, even in death these mindless humans were as boring as ever!

They never seemed to enjoy a spot of bloodletting.

* * *

Excerpt from the Addendum to the Yggdrasil mk. 2 Deity System Manual

"... The Deity system is as comprehensive as the normal and mythic classes. If you level in your title enough, you can unlock more powerful spells and abilities, and may even ascend to become an "overgod"! Though no one has yet reached that level, we developers have allowed that any gods who ascend to this level shall have powers equal to us developers..."

* * *

 **Shurpuff says: Thanks for reading! I really appreciate all the comments, insights and suggestions.  
**

 **More to come?**


	8. Raid on the Crossroads

They remembered the days hunting down humans in their cities.

With their wings, and their superior leg strength, they could swoop down and snag a few humans, and then carry them back to the cages. It was still fine if anything was impaled by a talon, or otherwise died from the sudden impact-the elder liches needed something to do.

It became a game, of sorts, trying to see who could capture the most in one go. The leader remembered a particularly fiendish subordinate, who would clamp its jaws on any nearest human. It held the record, currently unbroken.

A shame it died during the battles against the dragons.

The dense forest presented a certain kind of challenge, if there were humans fleeing through there.

But that was fine. It was time to hunt.

Shrieking, the mass of gargoyles emerged from the top of the spire, and followed the leader in a spiraling sort of formation. The sight, along with their great shrieks rending the air, would present a terrifying combination to any nearby humans.

They began to use their sense to find the intruders.

Then, they spotted something off in the distance. It was a strangely colored thing flying through the sky towards them.

For a moment, the gargoyles hovered, confused. They had never seen something like that. Too small to be a dragon, and yet its humanoid shape couldn't possibly have been able to fly.

The leader loosed command, and the swarm dove as one' the first vanguard fearlessly leading a spiralling wave of death.

The strange thing, as if ignoring their fearsome shrieks, plunged right into their mass.

 _Clang, clang, clang!_

Their attacks seemed to bounce off the thing's skin-every talon, claw and jaw felt like they were striking stone.

The thing zoomed right past them. It turned around, then made a waving motion with its hands.

The gargoyles pursued, converging on the impudent creature. They were proud creatures; and would never feel fear.

"[Arrest the Panty Thief]!" the thing said.

The leader saw the image of a thick set of bars before it felt the sudden pull of gravity; its body suddenly slamming into something hard and metallic on top of its head. It flapped its wings futilely, then found itself scrabbling for space together with its shrieking kin.

They seemed to be trapped inside something, packed tightly like bats crammed into a small cave. No matter how much they shoved, they could not escape.

They felt the rush of suddenly descending; then a loud crash, and then, silence.

* * *

The vampire knelt, pressing its palms to the floor. Faint vibrations emanated up its arm. Its eyes narrowed. It sounded like... an army? Or at least a troop of warriors.

It grinned. A host of warriors come to openly challenge the rule of its great Mistress. It would enjoy toying with them, then delivering them up as sacrifices.

It could definitely spy the cloud of dust in the distance. Such a loud clamor; they were making this too easy! Well, it was to be expected from inferior minds, who could not grasp even basic strategy.

Abandoning all pretense of peerless grace, the vampire bared its fangs and claws and charged, snarling, jumping from tree to tree.

Soon, it saw that the cloud of dust didn't belong to a troop of warriors trudging noisily through the forest, as it had assumed.

It was a tall, red-haired woman-riding on top of a moving mountain of earth.

The vampire blinked. The earth seemed to be moving along like a wave, pushing trees and stone aside as it advanced. It didn't look natural; likely a form of magic it had never seen before.

Still, the target was clear now. The woman didn't look that strong; rather she looked beautiful, a rarity in this world. The vampire would enjoy breaking her, before offering her as tribute to the Mistress.

The vampire went up to the top of a tree. It waited as the groaning cavalcade of dirt passed it by.

Then, when the woman could no longer possibly see it, the vampire launched itself in a silent, swift arc. At this range, and at this speed, there'd be no escape.

Then the woman looked over her shoulder.

"[Still: Hold]"

With that whisper, an invisible force clamped itself over the vampire, halting it right in midair. Surprised, it could only gape and struggle against the invisible bonds.

The woman turned around. The look in its eyes was that of someone coldly appraising a fly pinned to the board.

 _Don't look down on me, human-_

The woman made a downward whipping gesture with its hand. The vampire felt the force drag it down, crushing it to the ground with merciless force.

Hacking up earth and dust, the vampire glared, baring its teeth.

"Not really what I expected," said the woman. Then it pointed, "May the echoing wails of the damned assail your dwindling dreams-[Pit of the Damned]."

The earth suddenly opened up beneath the vampire, and it fell into the depths of the gaping maw. As it felt the invisible force had disappeared, it scrambled for a grip on the sides of the pit, only to find skeletal hands gripping and clawing at its body. It looked around; the inside walls of this pit was filled with the grasping hands.

"Unhand me, you filthy-" it screamed. Yet she could not escape the hands, whose strength seemed greater than it. Its hair was askew, its dress scratched and torn-it was an insult of the highest order. _The woman will pay!_

"Struggle all you like," said the woman, standing above near the mouth of the pit. "But unless you're Level 100, the angry damned shall keep you there until I say so."

"You will die! I will paint the walls with your blood!" Its cries echoed in the abyss.

Suddenly, a burly, scarred human and a handsome-looking human with a cape appeared next to the woman.

"That looks scary, Ulbert-san," said the scarred man.

"Yeah, I-hm? What's wrong, Peroroncino-san?"

"*slurp* Huh? What? Pah! Sorry, I was just-she looks really pretty."

"Drooling over a vampire... You know they're just gonna suck your blood," said the woman.

"Guhh... just the thought of it gives me shivers..."

"Uwaaah..."

The trio continued their banter thusly, completely ignoring the vampire struggling indignantly at the bottom of the pit.

* * *

She was here again.

This village which she once called home.

Now, it could not even be called something where humans live.

"Are you alright, Nemu-san?" her master said.

She turned around and bowed deeply to the God of Unlife. "Yes, milord. I humbly await your orders."

Sebas Tian, savior of humanity, and Touch Me, his Creator, stood to the side.

"By your leave, masters," said the butler.

"Good. Remember, if a stronger enemy should arrive, Sebas, you are to use all in your power to retreat, and then find and inform one of us," said Lord Momonga.

"Very well." The butler leaped and disappeared into the woods.

Beyond the small rise, she could sense the thousands of undead trapped in this place. Because of the Supreme Beings' blessings, she could no longer feel anything but pity for these noisy echoes of humanity. All except for one shade in particular, for whom she felt a burning determination.

"Nemu-chan, good luck," said Touch Me. "I'll be going on ahead, to clear the way."

"Ah, milord, you don't have to do that! I can clear the way myself. Milord Momonga, please command me."

The white warrior chuckled. He walked over, then patted Nemu on the head. "Allow this selfish man to show off, even for a little bit. I don't want my precious child to say I was useless and did nothing."

Nemu looked shocked. "How can I? To be rude like that to my Creators, would be a grievous sin...!"

"Haha... as Momonga said, it's fine to be enthusiastic, but please remember your limits." He nodded to Momonga. "Then, I'm going."

Momonga bowed. "Please, Touch Me-san." According to the [Message] reports, the others were already done with their parts in the plan. Now it was Touch Me's, Momonga's then Nemu's turn.

Like a whirling cyclone of silver, Touch Me blurred over the rise. Not a second later, there were already sounds of bones shattering and clattering.

"Nemu-san."

She straightened her posture. "Yes!"

Crimson flames stared into her. Though her master could not show any sort of emotion anymore, she could still guess that he was inspecting her. One could not help but feel mesmerized by his gaze, as if he were licking at her very soul.

"Remember what we planned," said Momonga.

"Yes!"

"... Then go, and free your sister."

She saluted. "Understood." A direct command that she would obey, no matter what. Nemu melted into the shadows, then followed after Touch Me.

She saw the white warrior had left nothing but dust and bone fragments in his wake. The undead were like moths attracted to his flame-hordes of rattling skeletons, gaunt wraiths and screaming ghosts pursued, only to be cleaved to pieces by his blade.

Nemu flickered from shadow to shadow. Were she a human still, she would've been very affected by the energies teeming in this place. The ground just felt wrong and... alive at the same time. She could not explain it, and indeed such matters were more in the purview of her masters, who were peerless in wisdom and intellect.

For now, she went to the same place where she remembered she'd seen her sister. Strangely, that memory was faint, like a half-remembered dream, but she ascribed it to the limitations of her old self, who was still shackled by fear and other mortal trappings.

 _Huh? Since when was I_? Why was she referring to her old self as separate? She was still Nemu Emmot. _Wasn't she?_

Nemu felt strange, but the feeling passed. It didn't matter; Nemu still needed to free her sister.

"This feeling?"

Nemu paused, eyes narrowing. Thanks to Lord Momonga's blessing, she had a definite sense for the undead. It was as if she could differentiate each one at a simple glance.

Nemu walked past a mound of dead, and saw a figure garbed in unearthly light. Its clothes were torn and ragged, and there was a massive gash running down the back of its body.

She emerged from the shadows, purpose coursing through her like excitement. Her eyes never left the solitary figure, who seemed to still not notice her. Nemu wondered why she wasn't like the rest of the undead, who were getting slaughtered for their efforts not too far away.

 _Was it that it was not a violent spirit?_ But no, Nemu remembered that terrifying sight before she'd fainted.

She took another step. The figure still didn't turn around.

Nemu swallowed. As a Champion of the highest caliber, she should not be feeling fear. So what was this?

Apprehension? Longing? Sadness?

Nemu then realized: no, this just was a quiet sort of satisfaction. Since she no longer needed to fear her sister, and also knew that she had been granted more than enough power to subdue her, this remaining hesitation could only be attributed to the stark realization that, following this, her quest would be over.

Even knowing this, she took another step. Then another.

"Nee-san."

The spirit turned. Pale lights flickered where its eyes should have been.

"It's good to see you again."

Its mouth opened, impossibly wide, into a hole bigger than its head. Fire blazed in its eyes as its shape morphed into something bigger, more hideous.

"I'm sorry, nee-san. For leaving you alone."

The ghost struck with ethereal claws and incorporeal sinew. Like a dead leaf on the wind, Nemu slipped aside, her eyes never looking away.

"But thanks to it, I could come back, and free you."

An otherworldly wail erupts from its mouth. Hatred, despair, sorrow, fear, loss: these were only a few of the things contained in that song.

Nemu smiled. She raised her arms up, invitingly, as if waiting for the other's embrace.

"I will always remember your name. From now, until my service is ended."

 _That's why-_

The ghost lunged.

"Goodbye, my beloved, wonderful nee-san. Goodbye, Enri Emmot."

It was only for an instant. The edge eagerly cuts through ethereal flesh, like fire through a silk curtain.

A transparent, weathered hand caressed her cheek. The ghost has not changed; to others it was still transformed, ugly, full of malice and anger.

To Nemu, it was a precious, beautiful sight.

The ghost's mouth opened and closed, like a dying fish. The light in its eyes seemed like it wanted to say something through the cursed veil.

 _You're beautiful,_ someone said.

Nemu didn't know who said it: her, or by some strange miracle, her sister.

In the next instant, it was as if the ghost had never been. Her hands fall to the side, dagger gripped loosely.

"It is done," she said.

Not even a hint of wind graced her words. There was only:

"...Good work," said a voice behind her. She doesn't even have to look to know who it was.

"Thank you, milord, Momonga," Nemu said quietly.

Silence.

"... Are you... alright?"

"My duty to her is finished," she replied evenly.

"Surely you don't... You don't feel anything at all?" Lord Momonga's voice seemed shocked.

"No, there is-but... I certainly feel like I _should_ cry. But I also know there is no need. I have fulfilled my duty. I know I _should_ be feeling upset, yet I also know that I have not disappointed you with failure-so why should I feel that?" She looked at him, her Creator, her Master, as if he held the answer.

But her Master only whispered, "I'm sorry..."

She tilted her head, confused. "Why do you apologize milord? Are you alright?"

As she bustled over him, her Master threw out a hand to stop her. "... Nemu."

"Yes?"

Her Master hesitated. "Would you like to be free?"

"Free?" Her Master was certainly speaking strangely. "To be discharged from my duties? Have I done something inadequate, milord? Please tell me how, so I may correct myself!"

Her Master seemed to have sighed. "Do you not want to rest?"

"Rest? How can I rest, my lord? I have been given new purpose. To my last breath I shall fight for you, Lord Momonga. Forevermore, I am your loyal Champion."

A long groan issued from her Master's mouth. "... That's what I thought..."

* * *

With a broad sweep, the last wave of undead turned to dust. Their lingerings wails echoed for a while, then ceased.

Touch Me grunted. He lowered his sword.

"Is that all?" he muttered.

Not like he was expecting anything more. It was a foregone conclusion. He didn't know if it was because of a passive that somehow translated into this new world, or if it was something else, but he could tell that nothing in here proved a challenge.

"Being disappointed like this... am I a battle maniac?"

He hadn't even broken a sweat. There had been little technique in scything through those undead like chaff.

He laid his sword on his shoulder and looked around. Relative silence had fallen on the Crossroads. The only surreal thing about it were the mounds of corpses that yet remained.

"Hm?"

A rumbling coursed through the ground. Touch Me squinted, peering at the sudden cracks that appeared.

The ground erupted, like something had suddenly lurched up from within. Sensing no danger to himself, Touch Me took a few steps back, to enable his eyes to take in the new arrival.

Arising from the ground was a stinking, heaving giant, near four stories in height, its fists each as large as cars.

Touch Me couldn't possibly know, but this was the Guardian born from the land. A massive undead creature spawned from the agglutination of hard, packed earth and a hundred corpses, each shaped and stitched together by unholy artifice. Called only when the resident undead were wiped out, this super-zombie was made to destroy strong interlopers.

It was also a completely natural occurrence. Like a tornado formed from a specific confluence of hot and cold, this giant was formed from the ravages of negative energy and the grudges of the dead. The forces who made this into the Crossroads could not have created something this weak; but because of its unique nature, it was allowed to exist there on their sufferance.

"Ah, I remember. You must be the legendary warrior Sebas mentioned," said Touch Me. He sized up the enemy-literally, his eyes running all across its gigantic frame-then shook his head.

Weak. Still much weak.

As a warrior-type Player, he could not guess what enchantments were used on the guardian. But he could sense that it was built to withstand fire and holy attacks. And he could sense, however faint, the presence of a strong warrior spirit hidden inside all the filth.

"Or maybe I'm just seeing things," the warrior said, self-derisively. "Getting to be as delusional as that Ulbert... ah, what a pain..."

The giant could make no sounds, but its raised arm was unmistakable.

"Hup!"

Just to test if he was right, Touch Me met the attack with just his fist. It felt strange, seeing something as large as a boulder falling down being stopped, with no pain at all, by his palm. It really drilled into him the ludicrousness of the situation in which the six had been involved.

"... If there is someone inside there, please reveal yourself. Or if not, at least find rest after I finish this." Placing the fist aside, he set up his sword, then stepped forward and did a nice, long, horizontal cut.

The giant was immediately bisected crosswise. A whooshing sound, like air escaping a small hole, came out from the wound. Faced by such overwhelming power, the unholy bonds came undone, the body parts coming apart like rice dipped in soup.

Touch Me watched it all with a critical eye. Though outwardly defeated, Touch Me could sense that the presence from before was still there.

And somehow, he could sense that it wanted to talk.

He watched as an apparition phased into being. It was a man clad in plate armor, thick-boded, stern of face and manner. In life, it would have made for an imposing figure. Unlike the other ghosts, this one didn't move to attack.

"Are you the legendary warrior?" asked Touch Me.

 _There is nothing legendary about me_ , came a voice, disembodied. The ghost's eyes were weary. _I am a failure to the people, and my King. I died a foolish death, and have been trapped here ever since. So I thank you, great warrior, for freeing me._

"Oi, don't call me anything like legendary," said Touch Me. "I'm just a simple man, trapped in the currents of life."

 _Take care to not drown_ , said the warrior. _May I ask one thing, before I disappear?_

"Hm? If it is in my power..."

 _Fight me._

"By yourself? Why?"

 _With this, I may affirm my existence: that I would engrave on you this memory, so I will not be forgotten. Let my dishonored self be a lesson against the pride of the warrior too stiff to see the crooked road before him._

Steel edge keened against steel gauntlets. For the first time since they'd arrived, Touch Me withdrew his alabaster shield. "For your conviction, sir, I shall fight you with my all."

 _I thank you. Words cannot express how grateful I am._

"Think nothing of it. This is just a small part of a man's romance, after all."

The ghost drew a pale greatsword. It drew into a stance unknown to Touch Me, who was more familiar with Japanese sword-styles. Nonetheless, the World Champion also prepared, throwing his shield up and preparing his own counter-stance.

There was no signal; just a contraction of ghostly and insectile muscle. The eyes on the shade flashed-

 _[Sixfold Slash of Light]!_

One attack, six slashes. An impossible action. It was a technique worthy of being called ultimate. For humans, it was a technique only born from hard work, or supreme talent.

Touch Me marveled at the sight-having seen it in slow motion through his warrior sense. The human in him could never have accomplished such a feat. He was sure none of the swordsmen in ancient Japan would have been able to accomplish it.

And yet-

Each slash struck against his shield. Even if it came from a solid blade, it needed the right enchantment to be able to damage it. The ghost's blade would have passed through, but this shield belonged to one who was proclaimed World Champion: it would stop everything from a specter's dagger to a Behemoth's fist.

Touch Me put his sword in a stabbing stance, then proclaimed, "[Divine Sword Thrust]!"

Despite its name, it was just that, a quick thrust, with a sword, more effective after blocking. It was "Divine" because it could pierce through Divine-level equipment, not that it belonged to a god like Momonga. In terms of martial elegance, it was a mere commoner compared to the enemy's technique.

There was no sensation of piercing flesh. But there was the feeling of something ending. Touch Me withdrew his sword; backed up a step.

The ghost stood in front of him. It held no blade. It didn't appear injured; but there was a certain finality in its eyes.

"A praiseworthy technique," said Touch Me. "You truly are a legendary warrior."

 _Haha, don't joke with this one. The legendary one should be you, no? Even if I were alive, even if I were garbed in the treasures of my Lord, I still would not have been able to scratch you._

"Perhaps." Then, doing what he thought would be appropriate, remembering certain movies, Touch Me slapped his forearm over his chest. "A good fight; I am honored. I am Touch Me."

The ghost mirrored his action. _Gazef Stronoff_ , said the disembodied voice. _Save this world, milord. Save humanity._

Then, it was as if the warrior had never been there.

* * *

They all gathered before the great cage that had made a small crater in the forest. Bukubukuchagama stood near it, well out of reach of the gargoyles trying to get at her through the iron bars.

"Nemu-chan," said Chagama-san. She looked from the girl to Momonga. "Is it... done?"

Momonga made a sidelong glance at the girl, then nodded silently. The expression on the champion's face was still as placid as ever.

Still, Chagama-san drew the girl into a tight embrace. "If you want to cry, you can borrow nee-san's shoulders anytime."

"U-understood... Thank you, milord Bukubukuchagama."

A certain screaming, different from the way the gargoyles were shrieking, reached their ears. Ulbert stepped into view; dragging an unknown woman by a thick chain. Herohero brought up the rear.

The woman was beautiful, skin so white it could be mistaken for a corpse's.

She was also nearly naked.

Chagama-san made a sound of disgust. "You men couldn't even make up something to cover her?"

Herohero held up a hand when she was about to use a decorative item to cover the vampire, saying, "It's no use. She's just gonna tear it to shreds."

"Why not tie her up?"

Herohero's eyes widened. "Eh? But it's-" he said.

"Kinky," Ulbert said flatly. "Well, if you insist." A cantrip later, there were tight manacles binding the vampire's arms behind it. Chagama-san covered the vampire's half-naked body.

"Huh. Why didn't I think of that," said Herohero. "Am I... am I getting stupid or something...?"

"Human fools!" the vampire spat. "A storm of night shall descend upon your heads! Despair and agony shall be your only fare, when the Night Queen takes her share! Tremble-" Her voice disappeared; though her mouth continued to move. She'd been silently silenced by Chagama-san.

"Intense, huh?" Ulbert remarked.

"Where's my brother?" asked Chagama-san. Indeed, Peroroncino wasn't present; and he was supposed to be with the other two.

"Ehhh... he excused himself, saying he had something urgent to address." Ulbert looked down at the chained vampire. "Something about 'Princess Lea'... or was it 'Lia'?"

"By the way, where's your familiar, Chagama-san?" asked Momonga.

"Our [Merge] ended," said Chagama-san. "And without me inside he's just a useless hanger-on. So I sent him away."

"Sorry for being late," said Touch Me, arriving. He took a quick look at each of the ones here; his gaze lingered for longer on the gargoyles and the vampire. "Sebas?"

"I already called him over," said Momonga. As if he was literally summoned by his word, the butler also arrived.

"I have no excuses for being late."

"You aren't," said Momonga. "Which just leaves-"

A flurry of feathers came. Peroroncino crashed down, his breath wheezing. "S-sorry I'm-"

"Really?" said Chagama-san. "Really?"

"I-I have no excuse. It was good," said Peroroncino, in-between rapid breaths. When his eyes fell on the vampire with the cloth covering her, his breath hitched up. He shook his head. "No, I'm good, I mean. I... am good. I'm great. What were we talking about?"

"Everyone, the 'raid' seems to be a success," Momonga said, trying to head off Mt. Bukubukuchagama's eruption. He laid a hand on Nemu's shoulder. "Nemu's done with her part." Each of the Supreme Beings stared at her with a mixture of respect and commiseration.

"I thank the Supreme Beings for the blessings you have bestowed upon this one," said Nemu, bowing.

"I encountered a legendary warrior," Touch Me said next. "You said you knew of him, right Sebas?"

"Only by what I heard," said the butler reluctantly. "Tell me, was his name Climb?"

"No, it seemed to be Gazef Stronoff. Who's this Climb person?"

"Ah, no, I was just trying to confirm if this Climb had already died. He was said to be a legendary hero, but he disappeared years ago."

"Next, we have these fellows," said Chagama-san, pointing to the gargoyles trapped in her [Forcecage].

"Sebas?" asked Momonga. It had been arranged for the butler to help identify any Nazarick "delinquents", to aid the Supreme Beings who had forgotten much of their charge. The stronger existences were easy to recall, but things like specific POPs and other minions were harder. Things like vampires could have been spawned here, and not in Nazarick. Momonga and the others agreed to blame their ignorance on their long absence-Ulbert decided on a nice, fat millennium.

"Yes, milord," said Sebas. He stepped close to the cage.

The gargoyles hissed at him, extending claws and talons in an attempt to strike the butler. After staring at the mass for a moment, he turned and bowed to Momonga. "Yes, these are from Nazarick, milord."

"Haah..." Momonga could only sigh. He sensed the others exchanging looks and looking grim.

There was still an ongoing disagreement on what to do with the "delinquents". A swift death, for the sake of justice? Or spare their lives, in exchange for eternal imprisonment? Were these normal monsters, not linked to Nazarick, they would have been slain without question.

Momonga was decidedly ambivalent on the issue, and only leaned towards sparing them because they were the creations of his former comrades: he firmly believed that only the creators should decide on the fate of their created. Which then left the matter of the POPs, who were manufactured by Nazarick herself. And that was another round of debate that gave Momonga's nonexistent brain a headache.

"Before we decide," Ulbert said, helpfully, "What about this one?"

"...The failure," said the vampire venomously, as Sebas approached. She struggled in her restraints. "I do not know what pact you have made with these humans, but know that the Mistress shall no longer tolerate your presence after this."

"You dispelled the sound dampener?" Chagama-san asked Ulbert.

"A pitiful wretch like you should not speak so of those whom you should call 'Master'," Sebas told the vampire. "And indeed, it is only milord Momonga's edict that prevents me from obliterating your existence altogether with these fists. Don't you recognize them, vampire? Are you still blind?"

"Blind? I see truly, Sebas Tian. I see a pathetic wreck of a Guardian playing the role of savior. And I see a group of blood packs and meat bags; strong, yes, but ultimately pale in comparison to the glorous might of the Mistress. Especially you girl," the vampire leered at Chagama-san. "Your magic seems strong, for one so young. I assure you, the masters shall enjoy playing with every part of your body. And you, foolish woman. You too-"

 _Smack_! Ulbert had hit the vampire atop the head. "Don't call me woman, bitch." The vampire screamed when Ulbert laid his hand on its crown and started to squeeze.

"Oi, oi. Stop that. No touching until we know," Touch Me admonished. "Then, Sebas?"

"Mm. Yes, this is a minion from Nazarick, milords. Please forgive their unsightly behavior," said the butler.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Sebas," said Herohero.

With Sebas' confirmation, the stage seemed to be set for judgment. However, something nagged at Momonga's mind.

"Wait a moment," he said, walking forward to stand before the vampire. "Did I hear you correctly? Did you just refer to us as humans?"

"What else can you be, human?" Momonga looked with confusion at his friends.

"So... you don't see a skeleton? You don't see a slime?"

"I see a magic caster, young in appearance and therefore useless, I see a strange masked man who should be dying of the cold, I see a nobleman who will certainly enjoy a round in the Great Choir, I see-"

"Enough," said Momonga, throwing his hand out.

"You may not command-"

"When he says enough, _enough_ , fool," said Ulbert, once again squeezing her head.

Momonga scratched his head. "What's going on? Are they seeing us in the Disguise?"

"Well, it hasn't worn out yet," Peroroncino pointed out. They had noticed this in the forest before they'd met the pig-men. Although their perceptions of their selves remained constant-like Momonga looking down and only seeing bone-to the others, they still appeared like their Disguise. And it had been well over an hour. It had not been much of an issue, at the time-

Momonga whirled. "Sebas. How do you see us?"

"I see you in your greatest majesty, milords."

"Am I a skeleton?"

Sebas hesitated. "...While 'skeleton' would be apt, I feel-"

"No, that's fine," said Momonga. "And did we always appear as such?" The look on Sebas' face said it all. "Seriously? Were we also human-looking to you?"

The butler glanced at Touch Me. "Yes. Initially. And it changed when I was defeated soundly by milord Touch Me."

 _Why and how did it change_ , Momonga wanted to ask, but he turned to Nemu first. "Nemu-san, how did you first see us?"

"I saw you in your glorious selves, milord," said Nemu.

"When you first saw us?"

"Yes. When I first saw milord Touch Me, he was already the gallant warrior."

Momonga was struck speechless. No, it was more like his mind, in its ceaseless spinning and groaning, had silenced his mouth handily.

It was the vampire's shout that brought him back. "You fools! How dare you profane the Supreme Beings with your filthy mouths! Their most august names are only fit to be recited by we, who are chosen! Cattle like you-"

Ulbert gripped her neck this time. "This is your last chance, 'cattle'."

"Ulbert," Touch Me said warningly.

"What? She's getting pretty annoying, right?"

"She wouldn't be if you hadn't dispelled my spell," said Chagama-san.

"Look, I'm sorry I did that. But still, what does the [Loki's Tongue] have to do with our judgment?"

Momonga sighed. "You're right. We can leave that aside for now. So, let's start the vote."

After a few more minutes of discussion, it was decided, five to one, to have Sebas handle their imprisonment. It would have been easier if they acknowledged them as the Supreme Beings, but they didn't know how. All the while, the butler glared disapprovingly at his would-be charges. Nemu even offered to end them herself, to have them stop their "impudent attitude" to the gods.

"Then, next is-" The mountains of corpses still here. Through Touch Me and Momonga's efforts, all the undead were gone, but they guessed that it might only be a matter of time before more spawned. There was also the problem of the so-called "negative energies" Sebas mentioned; but because none of them had any idea what that meant (outside from what they knew of it from game mechanics), they collectively decided to keep their mouths shut and focus on the corpses.

"Realistically, they'd be burning for a long time," said Touch Me.

"And they'd stink," said Herohero.

"Which would be bad for us with noses," said Peroroncino. "Raise your hand, people who still need to smell." He raised his hand; he was alone. "Aw, c'mon Ulbert. I know you'd hate it too."

Ignoring that, Ulbert said. "Why don't we use a super-tier magic?"

"Would that work?" asked Momonga. "Fire is fire, isn't it?"

Ulbert grinned. "It's hellfire. Plus, the explosion might just incinerate them from the start."

"Ah. Basically you're going to show off," said Touch Me.

"Hey, lay off."

"Lay... off...?" Herohero whispered.

"It's also a way for us to see how super-tier magic works in this world," said Ulbert. "Win-win, eh?"

Everyone agreed, only after they examined the type of spell that would be used; and after using several precautionary barriers around the target area to prevent the fire from spreading catastrophically to the forest-like [Heighten: Mythic Wall of Suppression], consecutive [Earth Bulwarks], [Elemental Barrier]. Needless to say, a lot of Momonga and Chagama-san's mana had been used.

Additionally, since there might be intermittent flashes of explosions, a wall was erected to protect them.

"Ready?" said Ulbert. His smile would be enthralling, if it belonged to an actual woman. In examining the real emotions under it, Momonga saw a kid about to embark on a wild ride.

"Ready. Please be careful Ulbert-san." Momonga was a little nervous; a wall would not be enough to stop a nuke, if it ended up that way.

"It's just a spell. Well then, here we go." Ulbert went forward, jumped up to the top of the wall. Large, glowing circles appeared above and below him just as he began casting the massive spell.

After a whole minute had passed, Ulbert said, "Hear me, hear me. With this flute, I shall play the song of my people-come to me now, aid me, and I shall give you delight and ecstasy in incalculable degrees." Then he shouted. "May thy song reach us, in this old, forgotten place: [Azathoth]!"

Not a moment later, there came a flash of light that seemed to illuminate the whole world, then a great wave of heat exploded outward. Momonga and the others were able to endure it, but there was a great clamor from the gargoyles' cage, and the vampire suddenly screamed. Even Nemu and Sebas cried out in pain. A second later, there came the sound like a thousand thundercrashes. It shook every bone in Momonga's body, but didn't actually hurt.

When the overwhelming light faded, Momonga looked at Nemu and was shocked by what he saw. Her eyes had disappeared, blood flowing freely down from empty eyesockets. Fires raged inside them, and it was as if they were blazing out from her brain.

"[Restore Minion]!" Momonga said hastily. After a brief light, Nemu's eyes were restored.

She gasped. "Thank you for your kindness, milord. I do not say this enough, but I owe-"

"Later, Nemu-san," he said. He turned to Sebas, who surprisingly had the same condition. Chagama-san was there to heal his eyes.

There was no sign of the cage, nor the gargoyles, nor even the vampire. All that was left were unpleasant-looking black splotches on the ground. Momonga looked around, and saw trees knocked down as if a great wind had passed through.

Someone was poking him. He turned. "Yes? Herohero-san?"

The yakuza pointed, a dazed sort of expression on his face. Momonga raised his eyebrow and looked. Then he felt like he'd been punched in the brain.

An atomic mushroom cloud. And it was close. So close it was like a mushroom had suddenly grown to cover them in its shade. Since it was night-time, its glowing, looming mass was even scarier. Momonga suddenly felt small and insignificant; standing there and staring up at the sight. He supposed his own expression now mirrored Herohero-san's.

"How... how..."

His reverie was broken by Ulbert's sudden laughter. " _Goddamn_ , you're overpowered, Momonga-san. Would you look at that? That [Mythic Wall of Suppression] of yours completely blocked the explosion!"

"Hey, Ulbert," said Touch Me, his voice trembling. "What the hell was that?"

"That was the super-tier spell. Remember? You've seen me use it before. It nuked the shit out of that raid."

"Just a spell?" Touch Me marched forward, seized the other man by his coat. " _Just_ a spell? That's a goddamn... actual... literal nuke!"

"Alright, alright! I didn't know okay? Honest. I thought it'd just ignite the whole place. I didn't expect it to go full-on atomic."

Touch Me let him go, rendered speechless. Momonga's only thought was that he was glad he'd used the precautionary spells.

Ulbert continued, "And hey, look. That spell took care of the corpses."

The Supreme Beings stared at the devastation that had been the Crossroads. For starters, there was now only a smoking crater. Peeking over its edge, they saw a great burning fire deep in the hole. It was like staring into the mouth of a volcano-or a pit leading to hell.

There was no sign of any corpse.

"Uhhh... shame about the prisoners, though. Again, that was my bad. I promise I won't do it again," said Ulbert.

"Yeah..." Peroroncino chuckled hysterically. "You better not. At least, not without protection." They all glanced at Momonga's anti-magic enchantment, which had somehow survived such massive destructive force, where Chagama-san's barriers had not. Though it somehow could not block the shock wave of wind, which was perhaps due to its non-magical nature; all the flames produced by Ulbert's spell that would have made a grand conflagration in the forest just fizzled harmlessly when it reached the barrier.

Everyone, including Momonga, felt like they had dodged a hail of bullets. Without Momonga's precaution, the effects of Ulbert's spell would surely have been greater.

"...As expected of Momonga-san," said Ulbert. "Truly the mark of a god."

"Eh?"

"Your foresight may have saved us all," said Chagama-san.

"Ehhh?"

"I am proud to serve such a wise and powerful god," said Nemu.

 _Way to focus on the wrong things here, guys!_ Momonga thought, waving off the others' praise. _In the first place, why the hell does Ulbert have such destructive magic? Is this the power of a World Disaster? We should have examined it in better detail-  
_

After some discussion, they decided that the obliterated prisoners, despite being of Nazarick, were a relative non-issue. Any use they could have had could be reasonably gotten from Sebas, who had been here twenty years.

 _It also put an end to the debate, for now_ , thought Momonga. In a way, he could thank Ulbert for the super-tier spell.

Momonga sighed, and turned away from the dwindling mushroom cloud towards the east.

Morning was still far off, but he felt that this eventful night had come to a definite end.

"Let's head back to Nazarick, everyone," he announced. Everyone looked at him. "Let's see if we can't crack it open; get past the third floor. And if not, then tomorrow let's try and 'raid' some more places. Though, without the surprise nuke, eh, Ulbert-san?"

* * *

To the Guild:

Attached are a list of Bukubukuchagama's customized spells, along with their normal Yggdrasil names. Please memorize them thoroughly, so you can react accordingly whenever you are together with her in a battle. This is a special request from Momonga-san, who expects everyone to be able to work together, no matter what. Remember, knowledge is only half the battle.

Sincerely,

Punitto Moe

* * *

 **Shurpuff says: And with that, this first arc is coming to a close. Coming next is the epilogue, which will also function as an intermission of sorts. Once again, I am thankful for all the feedback, and as always, I appreciate more.  
**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **One more to come.**


	9. Phantom Menace, or Renewed Hope?

Interlude/Epilogue

* * *

 _Tick, tock. Tick, tock._

The man idly thumbed the silver fob-watch in his hand. While doing so, his eyes looked to the horizon, to the sun that should be appearing there soon.

 _Tick, tock._

The watch was supposed to tell time-however, one close observer would have seen that the hands no longer moved. The constant sounds came from the man's fingers, which kept twisting the dial to push the long-hand forward one slot at a time.

Seemingly tired of the action, the man took a deep breath, then placed the watch back inside his pocket. Inside was also another thing, a locket-shaped object that made a pleasant jingling sound. The man hesitated, but in the end chose not to take it out.

Even without the watch, the man could still somehow hear the sounds in his mind.

 _Tick, tock._

"... So you were out here. What's the matter, can't sleep?"

The man recognized the voice, and so did not turn. Footsteps scuffed on the rocky ground until the speaker came up beside him. She was short, had a peculiar mask over her face, and a red hood covering the rest of her body.

"... Had a nightmare," said the man.

The woman nodded, and said nothing. For the both of them, the word "nightmare" was more than just a common occurrence, it was an accepted part of life. When one scrabbles on the edge of sanity, desperate not to give in to the temptation to fall, nightmares were just par for the course. They had already steeled their minds to function even under the heavy burden of constant pressure, grinding such petty emotions under an indomitable will.

Joy was unnecessary, when sadness could take its place; hope was useless, when despair could so easily gobble it up-even wrath was a liability, which could cloud the prospect of victory.

In a way, they'd become much like one of their protectors.

"If you can't sleep, don't just stand over here staring into space. A dedicated scout could have spotted you from the horizon," said the woman.

"I know."

"So come back inside the cave, and if you can't sleep, then try making more of those potions of yours. We'll sure as hell need it for the next mission."

"I understand."

The short woman looked like she wanted to say something else, then shook her head and left. Despite his words, the man turned back to look at the horizon.

"... still not here."

He'd been standing there for a while since the woman retired, when another woman's voice came. Its owner melted out from the recesses of the cave like a pale apparition.

"Nfirea-sama, I believe Evileye-sama asked for you to come back inside," said the woman. The woman was a strange picture: a black-haired beauty wearing spectacles and a maid-costume, which was somehow armored as if for battle. Had he not witnessed the delicate woman's ogre-like strength in battle, he would have mistaken her for a rare, well-bred paramour.

"I apologize, Miss Yuri," said Nfirea. He turned, his expression hidden behind his long bangs. "I'd simply thought... to see the sunrise one more time."

"I believe I have said this, but today that is not possible," said the maid. She adjusted the glasses on her face. "Shizu's information is not to be underestimated; the hunter packs have been confirmed to be down in the valley. It is far too dangerous to spend even one more day here. We shall be leaving long before sunrise."

Watching the sunrise on the run was not at all what he wanted. He wanted to have the time to quietly contemplate its blazing glory, to receive the rays with a roar that would shake the earth, and wring miracles from the air. And most of all, he wanted to watch the morning triumph not by himself, but together with someone who was very dear to him-

And yet, the stronger part of him: the sterner part of him, understood. He sighed, suppressing his childish wants, not for the last time.

After he exhaled, he nodded and followed after the maid silently.

 _Maybe next time_ , he thought.

 _Tick, tock._

* * *

The Terrace of the Gods.

A place most sacred in the Capital, where thousands of worshipers prostrate themselves hour after hour to the eternal glory of the Gods-as revealed to humanity by the Demon King. It was a vast, open space, circular in shape, with torches around the edge lit up during night. At the center was the ritual platform, upon which was an elevated disc, and around its edge were a row of certain effigies which were rotated constantly by a turning mechanism below. The chattel were gathered around the center, encouraged to give their all to the worship service, so that even their feeble voices would reach across space and time to the great Gods beyond.

Seated at a higher place of honor near the center were the Grand Hierophants, men and women who had proven their superiority to the petty constraints of mortality. They were honorary spiritual heteromorphs, who had been chained in unworthy forms at birth, and had been freed by the blessing of the Demon King. Now they lead the chorus of worship everyday, and would officiate the various rituals that were demanded of the worshipers.

The chanted supplications filled the air like the rumbling of giants' feet. Never a pause, never a break. When someone tired, they were pushed to the front, where they could be closer to the glory of the Gods. There, they could have a greater chance to be chosen by a Hierophant to be Exalted in ritual.

There were forty-one Hierophants, one for every God. Each Hierophant represented one God, and was to champion the Demon King's cause in their name. Every day was dedicated to one God, and every day their Hierophant would lead the great ritual, to Exalt one or more of the chattel as beacons of hope and mercy.

Today, one of the cowled Hierophants rose. A thunderous cheer erupted from the crowd, as their excitement peaked. Who would be chosen? Who would be Exalted?

The Hierophant turned, and silently regarded the crowd behind it. Then it pointed. Immediately, a woman shouting in ecstasy was carried up from the mass towards the ritual platform. When she was dropped there, she crawled hastily to the center, where the effigies rotated silently. Her words were an incoherent stream of feverish babbling, her body trembling and shaking as she recited her prayers to the Forty-One.

The Hierophant raised its hand. "In the name of Jadalbaoth!"

 _"In the name of Jadalbaoth!_ " roared the crowd.

"And of the Forty-One!"

 _"And of the Forty-One!"_

"And of the One who Rules Above All!"

 _"And of the One who Rules Above All!"_

"Today," shouted the Hierophant, pacing around the platform with measured steps. "Is the Feast Day of much significance. Every forty days we pray, every forty days we hope: that the One Who Rules Above All shall return to our world! The Supreme Being above the Forty-One! The Supreme above All! The Overlord of Death! Today, we celebrate His name, and today we beckon him back to our World! All hail Momonga, praise His name!"

 _"All hail Momonga! Praise His name!_ " shouted the crowd.

"...Forty days have passed, and yet we know that last Sacrifice was not enough. The Exalted was too impure, too weak, to call the God back.

"Is today the day when our Prayers shall be answered? Is this one who was Chosen the purest sacrifice? Or must we wait forty more days in darkness, and doubt, and suffering, cursing this one's name for all eternity?"

A thunderous cacophony greeted its question. No single word could be made out, so great was the noise that hammered at their ears. The Hierophant raised their arms to the sky, as if waiting for a miracle to descend from the skies. The woman, her dirt-smeared face shining with joy could only shout hoarsely as the Hierophant approached her. The former grabbed her by the back of her neck, and lifting, displayed her to the worshipers.

"Sister! Are you prepared?" the Hierophant demanded.

"I am prepared!" she shouted, though her voice was drowned out like a tiny bubble in the ocean.

"Will you be the Bridge, the Beacon, the Gate to lead our Lord Momonga back to this humble world?"

"I shall!"

"She has spoken!" shouted the Hierophant. The crowd roared in response. "She has promised to be Exalted! And now we shall see if she speaks True! For if the Chosen has willingly lied, then their souls are forever forfeit, to be devoured by the World Snake that sits at the edge of all existence! Oblivion shall be her fate!"

"I shall be Exalted!" shrieked the woman.

"Then so be it," cried the Hierophant. Out of nowhere, a dagger was in its other hand. It was curved and cruel-looking, like a dragon's tooth. The crowd's rhythmic shouting began to rise to a fever pitch. Excitement and adrenaline coursed through every single worshiper.

The blade ascended, catching the light of a hundred torchlights.

"Cease," came a thunderous voice. The Hierophant stopped when three winged demons descended on the ritual platform. The hubbub instantly ceased; the other Hierophants rose and kneeled.

"The Ritual is cancelled," said one of the demons. "Return to your pens and await the morning." The silent crowd instantly uttered wails-they remembered the last time the Terrace Ritual had been cancelled. It had been when dragons had come to set the city ablaze. In the aftermath, hundreds had died as they were forced to douse the flames.

"You," said the demon, pointing to one of the kneeling Hierophants. "Come. The Magistros has need of you." The Hierophant curtsied, and followed after the demons, using a talisman bearing the [Fly] enchantment to rise above the Terrace, then land on the city outside it.

Hundreds of demihumans congregated here in crowds and groups. This was a normal scene in the Capital, the city that never slept. Orcs, goblins, were-humans, minotaurs, pig-men, and the various demons lived here as the humans had. The Hierophant ignored all that and silently followed after the demons pushing through the mass.

The citizens were conversing under torchilight, each of them gesticulating and pointing to the sky. Speech in over a hundred garbled languages reached the Hierophant's ears, though none registered at all.

In going through the city towards the offices of the Magistros, one needed to cross the Divine Walkway, a hundred-foot wide street bisecting the entire city. It led towards the Palace where the Demon King lived. Upon each side of the enormous Walkway were gigantic statues carved from stone, each with torches and a small shrine at its base. Several groups of ascetics from the various demihuman races were seen worshipping at this or that statue. This was a place more Exalted than the Terrace, for filthy human feet were forbidden from ever crossing the consecrated tiles.

Each section of the Walkway was devoted to the God placed there: this area they crossed was devoted to Herohero of the Colorful Blood, the amorphous-shaped statue, more like a puff of cloud carved from stone, that loomed nearby. In this way, pilgrims could go from the Gate at the entrance to the capital all the way up to the Temple of the Supreme at the hill near the Demon King's Palace, and could stop and contemplate each of the Forty-One as they went.

Upon leaving the Walkway, the four were accosted by a couple of young goblins, filthy-looking and ragged-clothed.

"A momonga, for charity milords," pleaded the young ones. "Our father is terribly sick."

"Save the tears for the weekly charities, runts," said a demon.

The Hierophant withdrew a single silver coin, on which was stamped a snarling skull, and pressed it to the goblin's hand. Its voice was kind and mellifluous. "In the name of kind Luci*Fer, go forth and prosper."

"Supremes bless you!" cried the goblins, bowing as the group left them behind.

The demons looked at the Hierophant in silence. "Was it pity that moved you? They may well have been lying to save their skins-just to grab one more dose of the black drugs."

"It may well be," said the Hierophant, its voice serene. "That I was sure that there was no father, and yet still gave them the momonga, knowing that in doing so I bind them even further to a neverending cycle of abuse and decay; for as the words of Luci*Fer say, ' _Despair is the sweet-meat to be savored with the wine of anguish and salty tears'_." Under its cowl, a smile could be seen.

"Well said, and I would not have expected such wisdom to be exercised by an ascended human like yourself," said a demon. It snorted. "You are well on your way to ascending to greater heights."

"I thank milords," said the Hierophant, bowing.

When they arrived at the Magistros' building, the night staff waiting inside seemed to be in an uproar. Demihuman workers, lower demon functionaries and other officials were bustling about, each seemingly trying to outshout the other. It was like the scene inside a hen's coop, when a fox had entered.

"I see you've brought... Agent Orange," said the Magistros, when the demons presented the Hierophant. At the robed demon's words, the Hierophant bowed deeply and lowered its cowl. The human underneath the cowl was a female, and had beautiful, delicate features, but there was a cat-like cunning in her eyes. There was an almost predatory air to her, although in this room where there were other, stronger predators, the effect was more muted.

"What does the Demon King will?"

The Magistros rose, then beckoned the woman to the window. It pointed a clawed finger in the direction of the horizon. "We have detected a strange disturbance in the direction of the Crossroads. Not an hour ago, we saw a brilliant flash of light illuminate the land-for but a brief second. Then, there was a strange glowing light in the distance... though it faded after several minutes.

"We would consult with the Master, but he is outside of the Capital on his own business. Therefore we shall need you to investigate, Agent Orange. You shall be leading an adventurer team, the Bloodied Horns, towards the Crossroads. You shall find out what you can, and report back posthaste."

"Those guys~?" the woman wondered. "They aren't that strong."

"You don't need to be strong. You just need to investigate; and if there is a powerful force there, then all the more do you need to return, and inform me. You are not to take any independent action, do you hear me?"

"Ahhh~ I get it~ But what if it's the Night Queen herself, hmmm~? Will it be a declaration of war?"

"Leave that sort of thinking to the Demon King, and his trusted," snarled the Magistros. "Before the hour is out, you must be out of the city. Now go. The Bloodied Horns await, outside."

"I hear and obey," said the woman, curtsying.

The Magistros smiled. "I know your bloodlust may well rival the Night Queen at her worst; but please restrain it for the rituals here. Though the Demon King had named you heteromorph himself, it would be disingenuous of you to fall to your lingering human emotions. And mark this, Agent Orange-I report directly to the Demon King himself. So do not fail me."

"To have to go and threaten dear old me," said the woman. "Surely I am not that important~?"

One of the demons that had escorted her roared. "Cease your impudence-!"

"Enough," said the Magistros. "The Demon King values results, and so do I. Get out of my sight, and work to prove your worth of the title."

Bowing again, the woman dragged her gaze fearlessly over the demons, winked, then turned around to leave the office.

When she had left, one of the demons said, "Her head would be so easy to crush. I would offer all the momongas in the world if I were given that privilege."

"Let it be," said the Magistros. "She is useful, and while she remains so, she shall not be harmed. Besides, for all her posturing, our Lord has greater depths of cruelty; she is but a frog whose pathetic croaking only apes the celestial voice of Bukubukuchagama."

* * *

In the former Imperial capital of Arwintar, the dead now rule. A thick cloud hid the sun at day, and the moon was to be shown in its full glory at night. For here was the Night Queen's domain, where the Danse Macabre plays forever.

Unlike the many farms and towns within the territories of Jadalbaoth, life itself was forbidden in the Night Queen's demesne. Life was crude and unsightly, so limited and petty. In undeath the body, mind and soul were freed from constraints, and only endless pleasures await in the palaces of Shalltear Bloodfallen.

Yet there was still a clear hierarchy that dominated here. There were the vampires, overlords and skeleton lords at the top, each having enough sentience and cunning to wait at the court of the Night Queen. Then, below them were the various elite soldiers-the thralls, the death knights, minor liches and wraiths, who had just enough intelligence to give and follow orders. Then, at the bottom were the mindless zombies, shades, skeletons and ghouls designated to be the parody of the commoners, the underprivileged, who did not need their own wills or minds.

In this way, the small nation could mimic life, even as pale caricatures.

Deep in one of the palaces were special rooms reserved for those who could offer the Night Queen herself the most unique, exquisite pleasures. They were toys, in the truest sense, and were only distinct from their lifeless brethren by the fact that they could think and act on their own.

In one of these rooms, a beautiful vampire, thralled personally by Shalltear, waited out her eternal vigil. She was garbed in a dress with fabric so thin and delicate that one could see through to her pale skin. Her blonde hair, once golden vibrant, was bleached to a lifeless shade by undeath.

The thrall served a specific purpose. Whenever the Night Queen desired it, she would be escorted out of this room, then brought to a special chamber where the Mistress awaited. There, a pool of blood was continually churned by alchemical magic, which made its color and texture seem as if it were fresh from the veins.

Two figures were also there: each full-bodied human females with long, golden hair, and beautiful visages, each identical to the other. They were humans, live and untouched by death, but were still toys like the thrall. The thrall so wanted to touch and embrace them, but before she could, the Mistress would give the command, and the two would immerse themselves in the pool of blood.

When they emerged, they were as wholesome roasted meat set before a starving man. Alluring. Appetizing.

The Mistress would then beckon the thrall, holding a pile of clean cloth out. With an enchanting smile, the Mistress would command, "Clean you sisters. And remember, it is not wrong to give in..."

And the thrall would do as the Mistress commanded, and would approach the pair, and would sit them down, and would wipe their bodies clean of the blood. And all the while, her mind wrestled with her body, her will grinding under the primal need to push the women down and drain them dry.

 _Drink._

 _Drink._

A voice, like her Mistress's, would resound in her mind. While she wiped them down, careful never to taste the blood, she would endure it.

And then the humans would speak-

"Ah, onee-chan, you forgot this spot right here~" the woman would point to a spot near her neck; the thrall would shudder.

Or the other would say, "Oh, not too hard, onee-chan, you'll make my face all red~!", then the thrall could not help but whimper.

And all the while, the Mistress would watch on with a gleam of hunger in her eyes.

Then, when she would be done, and nothing would happen (and nothing _should_ happen), the Mistress would send the two away. Then, depending on the Mistress' mood, she would then command the thrall to service her in any number of debased ways.

Then, the night would end.

There was no set frequency to the Mistress' whims. The thrall studiously counted the days and nights since the last summons, looking forward to every time with a mixture of dread and elation.

Elation: that she would meet her sisters again; dread: for what she might do to them.

There had been a session just a night before. It had been completely taxing for the thrall, because the Mistress seemed more irritated than before. She had commanded the thrall to press its lips to its sisters' skin, and run its tongue over it all. She was forced to do it for a long time, until her fangs were unveiled and an unholy lust filled the thrall's eyes. Yet still the thrall refused, and when she heard, the Mistress all but ordered the twins out, then proceeded to use various instruments to savage the thrall's body.

The door opened. The thrall, its lifeless heart jumping in surprise, stared towards the door, where her escorts awaited.

"No," the thrall said, backing up into the corner. It could only wail; _it was too soon_! It had not even had the chance to recover mentally, to prepare for the next summons! She could not turn away temptation so soon after. "No, no, no! Too soon! Please! Have mercy!"

An emotionless face appeared; it was one of the high vampires who waited personally on the Night Queen. "Silence, thrall," it spat, though its face and voice were emotionless. "Garb yourself in your wargear; you are to set out."

The thrall's eyes widened, then she hastened to comply. Sometimes, the thrall would be sent on pacification missions throughout the demesne. Often it involved a band of demihumans who disrespected the Night Queen's edict against life. As the thrall had been a competent magic caster in life, and had retained the skills upon turning, it was often chosen. Though it was continuously reminded that any form of suicide on her part would only mean a hellish fate for the twins.

Outside, the thrall could sense the unease inside the palace. Ladies and lords gossiped in groups, each pointing to a spot outside the window. Servitors bearing flagons of blood were ignored, or were otherwise berated for being late as vampires drunk greedily like thirsty sailors.

The thrall was taken to a small room, guarded by a pair of heavily armored death knights. Inside, an elder lich and another vampire waited. They stood around a small table, where a map of the lands was placed.

The lich's burning gaze turned on the thrall, then to the vampire. "... Can this not wait until the Night Queen returns?"

"I feel it prudent to send out eyes, first," the vampire replied. "I do not wish to incur the Mistress' wrath because we were too slow in learning the nature of this disturbance. Besides, while it is disposable, it also has the greatest motivation to return. Don't you, thrall?" At this, the vampire's slender fingers cupped the thrall's chin. "She will do her best."

"You are to take a troop of the mindless and investigate the Crossroads," the thrall was told. "If it is a situation that requires you to aid the local overseer, then do not hesitate to do so. If the overseer is not there, then you are to use everything you can to return. Especially if it is an attack from the Demon King. I do not think it needs to be said how falling into their hands would be very... unwise."

The thrall could only nod; it did not need to speak or question.

"If it is Jadalbaoth, why would he do this here? Now? They know the full strength the Mistress can leverage."

The lich shook its head. "Who knows what lurks behind the complexities of his great mind? Perhaps this is just a small step in a larger game, with this entire world at stake. Indeed, I can see why it is fortunate that the Mistress is not here; it gives us more time to sense out his scheme."

"Where is the Mistress?" the vampire lady asked the other.

"I do not know. But there are only two or three places she deigns to visit."

* * *

Far south and east of Nazarick, where once stood proud kingdoms, a great forest grew. It had suddenly sprouted recently, quickly taking over large swathes of territory as its influence spread.

The various beast-men learned to leave the place alone. Only the hardiest of warriors could brave the forest's depths, where strange and powerful creatures dwelt. And even if one managed to evade such beasts, the very trees themselves were said to be alive, easily ensnaring weak intruders that are never seen or heard from again.

To a certain vampire and Floor Guardian of Nazarick, such rumors were beneath her notice. Whenever she desired it, she would simply summon her personal carriage, and take the long way down to the innermost depths of the forest. Nothing dared waylay her carriage as it sped through the trees-it was as if the life here were repulsed by the existence riding therein.

Every once in a while, Shalltear went this way to visit an old friend. Some times the friend would be accommodating; and they'd spend something like a "slumber party" for a few days. Though Shalltear never admitted it, she enjoyed such times-it was a quiet release from the pain of existence.

But other times-most times, even-she would be turned away at the door, humiliated by a sound refusal. To those under her rule, this would be seen as a most dangerous thing to do; but it was precisely because the other was a friend, and also a powerful being on her own right, that Shalltear did nothing but sulk and abuse her toys the next day.

Tonight was one such instance of refusal. Shalltear stood at the threshold to the inner area, her shoulders bowed by the rejection.

"On behalf of Aura-sama, please accept our apologies, Shalltear-sama," said the maid behind her. The maid wore strange hair, arranged in a chignon. Though it spoke, its mouth never moved; a closer look saw that her face was much too unnatural, like a doll.

The vampire, Shalltear Bloodfallen, waved away the maid's apologies. "That kid has always behaved on her own pace." The vampire was the image of ethereal beauty, with pale skin, doll-like features, and brilliant red eyes.

As she spoke, a forlorn look appeared on Shalltear's face. "Still, I would have loved to stay over again for a while. Everything's gotten dreadfully boring now."

"As you say, Shalltear-sama."

The vampire considered the maid for a few moments before she said, "Please take care of her."

"I always have, milady," replied the maid.

Shalltear brushed away dust from the hem of her dress. "She is the only thing I have left now. If she were to... if the worst should happen-then maybe I would go the way of that idiot gorilla. And then all of you would need to destroy me."

* * *

 _Clatter, clatter._

The incessant noise carried over the winds. There was an unnerving quality to it, like a thunderclap in the distance.

Here, in the misty wastelands, its constant sound wore away at any creature's courage.

"Where the heck are we supposed to go, chief?" the pigman asked his leader.

"Just a little further," growled the towering minotaur. He sneered at the doubt and unease in his comrades' faces-such emotions unfit for a hardened adventurer's group. The leader pointed to the human they carried around like a potato sack; now it was slung over the lizardman's shoulder. "Once we deliver the package, we can leave."

"Let's heave-ho then," said the goblin. "After this ordeal, I'd just like to drown myself in a bar somewhere, and forget all this."

"Methinks the tough goblin's more scared than he's letting on," murmured the were-cat.

This arduous job took them to the heart of dangerous territory, upon which were woven many cautionary tales and songs. It was said that a god, subordinate to the Forty-One, had descended on this place, turning once lush greenlands into craggy, parched wasteland.

"The mist's growing thicker," muttered the were-cat. "[Truesight]." A light erupted from its finger-tips.

The goblin hissed. "Are you insane? It's dangerous, to be casting that sort of thing here. You may as well have launched a flare to let everyone know we're here!"

"It's a minor spell, rat," the were-cat snarled. "Pipe down. It's your own whining that's gonna bring enemies down on us!"

"You're shitting me! Any tracker worth his salt could've spotted your little magic trick a mile away! You're delusional, pal!"

"Now listen here, you obnoxious punk-"

"Quiet!" the minotaur rumbled. "All of you shut up! What is that noise?"

Indeed, when the arguing stopped, the clattering noise seemed to have risen to a warbling cacophony. It was like a whole bunch of giant scorpions were surrounding them, skittering unseen over the rocks.

"Battle formation," the minotaur said silently. The rest of his mates instantly closed ranks, shielding the lizardman carrying their bounty. The goblin swallowed, his twin daggers shaking in his grip.

Then, twin orbs of light appeared in the mist behind them. It was the were-cat who spotted it first. But before he could cry out, a huge shadow bounded out of the mist.

" _Momonga-sama_?" it said, in a blood-curdling shriek.

 _Crrunch_! The next moment, the rest saw that their leader had been decapitated. The rest of the body tumbled slowly the ground. They trembled as the black shape reappeared, its form wreathed in mist and malice.

"This... this is not Momonga-sama..." Their leader's head rolled over to them. The minotaur's eyes were open, and seemed dazed, as if it was still not reconciled to its demise. Then, the twin golden lights flashed in their direction, and the shadow struck again.

Screaming, all the group could do was struggle. The caster fired off a spell, someone loosed an arrow, and the goblin swung blindly with his daggers. Of course, faced with such overwhelming speed and power, they could only take another breath before the infinite darkness took them.

The shadow broke the were-cat's back. "No, no! Not Momonga-sama. Too small, too bent." With a final crack, its inner ribs poked out through the skin.

"Too... too small!" the shadow screamed next, and squelched the goblin's head between its hands. "You are not Momonga-sama!"

"And you!" the lizardman's head lolled back and forth as the shadow shook it violently, making its limbs and head shear off from the violent force. "Scaly! Not Momonga-sama!"

There was the sound of something clucking its tongue. Then the golden orbs swiveled, found the bound human.

"M-Momonga-sama..." Slowly, carefully, like a maiden caressing a lover, the shadow touched the human's face. "Is it you...?" It was fortunate that the human was unconscious-within the next few moments, death claimed it just as it had the adventurers.

The shadow beheld its new prize: the human's skeleton, intact and still dripping of blood and fat and offal. It held the skeleton close to its body.

"Ahhh... Momonga-sama... You've returned to me..."

After a few moments, the shadow began to shake and sway, holding the skeleton aloft like a partner at a dance. Its eyes seemed to be seeing something distant and imaginary as it danced with the skeleton, its voice humming a song only it could hear.

And yet, the skeleton could not handle the strain for long. The individual pieces scattered, falling away from each other until the shadow was only holding its skull and the rib-cage attached to it. The shadow stopped moving, and held the skeleton at arms' distance.

"Momonga-sama..." it whispered, its voice sounding like it was crying.

"Momonga-sama..." it repeated, severing the skull from its spinal cord.

"Momonga-sama!" it shrieked, the voice echoing through the crags and crevices of the land. It cradled the remaining skull to itself like it was holding a baby, a mother never letting go of its young.

Some time later, the shadow disappeared from that bloody place, only carrying the skull with it like some sort of prize. Some distance away, in a cave made by the violent shaping of earth, the shadow appeared.

At the entrance was a skeleton hung from the cave-mouth, an unknown mechanism making the bones clatter and sway. This was the source of the sound that the adventurers heard.

"I'm home, Momonga-sama," the shadow said, addressing the skeleton. The latter seemed to wave its hand in response, though it was far more likely because of its constant swaying motion.

The shadow went inside the cave, an area lit by a dozen magical candles. On the corner was an extravagant-looking bed with various skull motifs. Hanging from the ceiling were various skulls, each contributing to the chattering at the entrance when they swayed and struck each other. On the other side of the cave was a shrine-like area, where pyramidal piles of skulls were arrayed before a strange emblem, printed on a purple-colored flag.

The shadow contemplated its new acquisition. Then it placed the skull, still slick with blood, to join the newest pyramid, arranging it neatly. The shadow giggled, like a maiden pleased with its work. "Ahh... Momonga-sama-to be surrounded by so many of you... This one cannot bear it-! Please... please... speak to me the words you once spoke, in that distant time..."

But the skulls were silent, and did not answer.

The shadow smiled, and closed its eyes.

"So you are still here?" came a sudden voice, from the mouth of the cave. Without even pausing, the shadow turned and rushed at the intruder.

"[Aspect of the Devil]!"

Even with that uttered spell, the intruder was still blown away by the force of the shadow's blow. It tumbled a distance away, then immediately righted itself, wiping the dirt from its suit with its free-uninjured hand. The other hand was enlarged, but there was a large, bleeding hole in it. The intruder clucked its tongue, then faced the shadow.

"What an absurd way of greeting one's guests, Albedo," said the intruder.

"... Demiurge."

The two beings facing each other in this place were two of the most powerful beings existing in this world. One was a sharply-dressed devil wearing round glasses, a menacing tail moving from its back. The other was a woman of astounding beauty in an exquisite dress, with milky-white skin, two horns protruding from its head, and a pair of black wings emerging from its waist.

Once, they could be considered comrades of equal standing. In here, they were as wary beasts circling each other, each knowing the strength of the other and acknowledging it.

Demiurge's eyes moved to the skeleton hanging from the cave entrance. "Do you still hold to such delusional works?" His lips curled in distaste.

Albedo's gaze glittered coldly. "... State your business, Demiurge. I thought I told you, many times, that I shall only ever wait patiently here for my love's return. Nothing you could say would ever make me help your cause, or that lamprey's. I thank you for the constant gifts-but the only gifts that can sway this heart is that of Momonga-sama's."

"Do you seriously think that slaving yourself to lifeless caricatures of our Lord will bring him back?"

"And do you think forcing the humans into all those useless rituals will accomplish the same thing?"

"Wha-" Demiurge's eyes narrowed. Saying _How did you know_ would only be an acknowledgement of defeat in his mind.

The woman chuckled mirthlessly, as if she grasped his thoughts. "Oh yes. I may be isolated here, but I know. Sometimes, when I feel like it, I can get your adventurers to sing the most exquisite songs for my amusement. And oh, it so amuses me, Demiurge, to learn of the various ways you flail around, like a puppet dancing mindlessly on the platform, just to accomplish the impossible." Albedo produced a coin, upon which was stamped her beloved's face. "Even going so far as to make them into gods..."

"And sulking in this filthy cave with all those skeletons is, in your mind, more successful?"

"Still, you do not see, Demiurge. Your mind, though made to be clever, cannot yet grasp the infinite truths right in front of your eyes." Albedo spread her arms wide, her eyes turned up to the sky. "Momonga-sama does not need to be summoned. He did not leave us, Demiurge. He is already here, in this world, in the rocks, in the trees, in the wind, inside the frail skins of the humans, inside every spoken lamentation, inside every utterance of despair, inside every last breath taken by all creatures big and small, live or undead! He is in all of us, a great, invisible force that encompasses all!" She cackled, her golden eyes seeing a vision that only she could see.

Demiurge sighed, pushing the glasses to his face. It was always a shame to visit, and see the degradation that befell the mind of the once-proud Overseer of Nazarick's Guardians. Every time he visited, Albedo's ideas would only grow more and more fanciful. And the only reasons for his visits was to ensure that her power did not run rampant, the World item in her control used to break the world as easily as she broke this place.

That had always been a constant worry; especially from the others whom he could consider equals. It had been a miracle to convince Shalltear to set herself up against him as leader of her own sovereign country. Then he had breathed a sigh of relief when Aura had dragged her brother to seclusion. But the other strong beings were ever troublesome: Sebas and his pointless settings. Cocytus and his ideals. And then here, Albedo, alone with her delusions, but an unpredictable force, whose mania may well spark a final battle as Nazarick descended into the last throes of madness.

Luckily, his gambit had worked, and Cocytus had been unwittingly sacrificed to remove some troublesome native pieces from the board. Sebas had been similarly co-opted, his weakness exploited and his ideals challenged, until the butler was forced to return to Nazarick a defeated wreck.

But Albedo remained the wild card. This recent visit only confirmed it.

Steps would have to be taken to ensure her compliance to his commands. Failing that, he would find a way to neutralize her without her retaliation. It would be a welcome change if she returned to her duties in Nazarick-then they could access the innermost sanctums that remained sealed to this day, which were sure to contain the knowledge to bring their Masters back.

Until then, he would rely on the repetition of various rituals by the human chattel to accomplish a miracle; for was it not a Supreme Being who said that repeating the same thing over and over was the road to True Wisdom?

* * *

 **Shurpuff says: Writing notes below. Beware of long-ish author's notes! That said, of you're curious about some things, read on.**

 **Early in June, I started this whole thing just as my Chapter 1 Author's Note says. A reader of one of my other stories told me it reminded them of Overlord. So, curious, I did some research, then some reading.**

 **Every story starts with an idea. And there was this idea that wormed its way into my head. It told me to write it, to give it form. That idea was "give Momonga his guildmates when he transfers". Now, from the start, I knew of the difficulties. This was not just limited to the idea, but to Overlord itself in general. It compounds the already difficult task of writing fiction for an ongoing series.**

 **As can be apparent to anyone who's read the novels, the story's setting is implied to be vast, way bigger than what we've seen. We've had mentions of the City-State Alliance, the Dwarven Kingdom, the Minotaur Nation, and other such places; we've heard of the dragon queen, the Dragon Lords, and that guild city; we don't know what elven society is like, what kinds of beastmen there are, etc. We don't know how strong or weak they are, compared to Nazarick. It's all a blank slate that the author has every right to fill, perhaps to set up something truly epic down the road. But it becomes a challenge when writing something based off it, since there isn't even a settings reference book to fall back on.**

 **Tangentially, we also have no idea about certain other details: like Momonga's guildmate's abilities and powers. In writing something based of the premise of giving Momonga companions, I tried to shy away from guildmembers who are basically just names, or names with one line of description. People like Beast King, Wish III, Genjiro, Luci*fer, and so on. If I wrote them, I'd probably only be making up OCs.**

 **With these restrictions, I resolved to clear everything away, make an in-story reason for creating a blank slate. And although it'd be a blank slate, I would put in enough elements to make it as consistent as I can make it to what we know. So, number one, I had Nazarick demolish the new world. It's a whole new status quo, dictated by me, while also staying consistent to Nazarick's strength and motivations. Then number two, I made an Yggdrasil Mk. 2. Since even the guildmembers we know of are still not as detailed as Momonga. So, a new game system, keeping their personalities as consistent as I could write it, and classes unchanged, if possible. (And not possible, in the case of the two slimes, but that's just due to the story) Adding in a new god class was also due to story-because a sequel-cum-reboot should have new features right? If the Deity system sounds real cheesy, then I'm sorry.**

 **And that's how I ended up writing the first chapter. Next, I shall be answering a few of the questions that popped up in feedback.**

 ** _Question: Why only those five? Why so few? Why so many? Why Touch Me, or Ulbert? Why not Tabula, or Punitto..?_**  
 **Answer: It goes back again to the above, to the things we don't know, because the author hasn't written about it yet. Now, if there were two I'd have loved to put in, it was Punitto Moe and Tabula Smaragdina. Because a combination of the two's personalities is exactly who my uncle is (He's the Honore of this username), and therefore it'd be easy to write them. But, and this is a huge but, there would be difficulties. Punitto Moe's NPC has yet to be revealed. So strike him out, since I wanted to be consistent. I didn't want to make Punitto the creator of someone like Solution Epsilon, write a scene about their reunion, then two volumes later we discover Punitto actually made Neuronist Painkiller.**

 **Tabula was actually in the first draft. It was either him, or Herohero. But there's something we don't know about Tabula-this ties in to one of Overlord's great mysteries: who or what the heck is Rubedo? What did Tabula intend with her, or it? We can guess his intentions with Albedo, and Nigredo, and I could write scenes accordingly. But there was still the landmine that was Rubedo, whose existence (and that of the 8th floor NPC's), I would not touch even with a twenty-foot pole, a demolition suit, and Momonga standing right in front of me. Again, I like consistency, so I picked Herohero, even if _his_ NPCs are also unclear.  
**

 _ **Question: Will you ever flesh out your systems more?**_  
 **Answer: You know, I'm actually trying to do less with it, since I would then just be expounding my vision for Yggdrasil Mk.2. Things like the Deity system or mythic levels are probably gonna be elaborated more in the future, but only when the story needs it. At this time, I'd rather not make an information reference just yet-because it sounds like I'll be just writing a rulebook on an RPG, and I'm actually not.**

 _ **Question: Consistency? What?**_  
 **Answer: Consistency in that the story adheres to canon concepts, but does not necessarily restrict itself to canon, per se. I can make stuff up within the confines of what's been established in the original story, and what I established in my own story. So Momonga being a Deity, yes, because I established the reboot, yadda yadd; but Momonga suddenly firing lasers from his eyes is a no, unless I made Momonga a Beholder. Come to think of it, if a guildmember was some sort of beholder, I'd have put him in...hmm...**

 _ **Question: What is overgod?**_  
 **Answer: Don't worry, Momonga's not going to become even more powerful. That was just to show that had Momonga been leveling more in his Deity class, he would've gotten more powers. This included something the developers had planned: complete control of the game world.**

 _ **Question: Other stories? Ideas? Are you going to publish them?**_  
 **Answer: As I said, I won't. The first idea turned out to be a slog to write, with all 41 "monsters" fighting for lines and appearances, and that was not to mention the NPCs. Plus, it'd be a complete curbstomp for the new world, and that's not what Overlord was really about, for me.**

 **And for the second: it's smut. Lemons. Porn. Porn with plot, but still porn. I'm not sure I can do it.**

 **As for other ideas, well I have been toying with several crossovers. One was something I could write, and wanted to write, if not for the nature of the crossover, which is a literal titan demanding all sorts of "consistency".**

 **With that said, this arc is over, thanks for reading! The next chapter might not be as quick-I'll be gauging reception, and if another idea comes up I'll probably work on that.  
**

 **Anyways, see you in the next arc!**


	10. The Gods Convene

The summons had gone out, bidding all the gods to return to the Great Tomb, to return to the Master.

She, pale and beautiful, garbed in the gifts of the divine, was sent to fulfill his will.

First, to the ruins of Carne Village, where a god's wrath from the Outer Planes had annihilated the unworthy. There, Bukubukuchagama the Flawless worked to craft something within the burning crater, giving birth to things with naught but her sweet and powerful voice.

"Eh, is it time already? Hold on, let me just clean this up a bit..."

Then, the Supreme Being used that exact same voice to call to her brother, the bold, fierce Peroroncino of the Thousand Strikes, whose domain was the eternal sky above and who could only be summoned like so. In a flutter of wings, he descended to the ground like a primordial predator, eager for the next prize.

"Ahahaha, what's the matter nee-san? Where's the city you promised? I told ya it wouldn't work. You should give up your dreams of-hurk!"

...Although for some reason he requested to be left behind as she was bidden to move on.

Moved on to Ulbert Alain Odle, a great Disaster barely contained within a cunning visage and sophisticated clothing. In his hands he balanced two items which, to her naive eyes, heralded two different versions of a benevolent apocalypse, each terrible in scope and result.

"Fascinating-either one would certainly be a spectacle... hm? Yes, yes, I know. Tell Momonga-san I'll be right there."

Touch Me was a warrior of the highest caliber, a Champion above all. Yet even with all that unrivaled strength, the Supreme Being had a humble heart, enough to deign to train with his servant, the butler Sebas Tian, in a simple spar.

"Hoh, it appears we must postpone this training, Sebas. I apologize."

"No, it was my deepest honor, sir."

"I shall certainly be there, Nemu-chan."

And then she went to Herohero, who at that moment slumbered within Nazarick. He was as the sea's abyss on a moonless night, deep and unfathomable. She took care to rouse this being, who was certainly greater than any leviathan that might dwell in such depths.

"Uhh... Heh? Oh... Nemu-chan, what's up... Hm? Momonga-san did...? Huh... Alright, I'll be there, gimme a sec..."

Her task done, she returned to the chamber where her Lord awaited. Standing above the gathered Supreme Beings, a cloak of deepest black, and a skull bright as precious alabaster, his eyes burning, pitiless, his very form simmering with unspeakable power, godly might descended into the base matter of this lesser realm.

"Ahh... thanks for your help, Nemu-san. I really appreciate it. Hm? Well, that won't do. You and Sebas can certainly stay. After all, we might need some questions..."

And with that, the six gods' meeting began.

* * *

"Still no luck with Nazarick?"

Momonga shook his head in the negative. For the past few hours, while the group had adjourned to do their own thing, Momonga had been trying his best to access his Domain, the god-like pocket dimension available to Deities.

Back in Yggdrasil 2.0, it was a convenient means for Momonga and his guildmates, as they no longer needed certain items to teleport there, nor even need to ride there on special transports. In addition, the customization options available in the Domain allowed Ainz Ooal Gown to turn it into their "Nazarick 2.0", as they took their time to prepare for the recapture of the real Tomb of Nazarick.

The ability to conveniently access Momonga's Domain would be a great boon here in this strange new world, where they could not be sure about what awaited them. According to Sebas and Nemu, the Nazarick NPCs had laid waste to most of it, but there could be other unknowns that would surely be problematic. There might be a Behemoth slumbering in this world, for example, and that would be catastrophic for only six of them to face.

Since being transported to this new world, and being exposed to various situations of death and devastation, they had learned to value lives-in particular their own lives. They were as sure to have died from Ulbert's ill-timed spell as a stray arrow. (well, depending if the arrow pierced certain resistances, etc.) One could never tell, and preparations would have to be made with the more conscious attention to detail than before.

"For the time being, it looks like it'll be inaccessible," said Momonga. He clenched his fist, feeling slightly frustrated. "How about you guys?"

The meeting had the feeling of an investigative party-as if they were searching for strange phenomena in the city and meeting up to share findings.

"The whole flying thing? Too awesome! I've been up there for an hour now, without any problems," said Peroroncino. They could all see his excitement.

"Well, that makes sense," said Ulbert. "Your wings aren't something like a Persistent Spell. So it will definitely have different properties."

"Bad news is," the bird-man continued, "Trees and trees and trees all around. I've only been seeing a whole lot of green down below. There's some mountains over there to the north, and I think I saw something like a lake, but aside from that, I didn't see any other settlements or towns. Hey Sebas, would you happen to have a map of the area or something?"

"Regretfully not, milord," said Sebas. "It has been almost two years since I have gone beyond the perimeter of the forests. But things might have changed in the outside world; so I cannot guarantee the accuracy of my knowledge." The same went with Nemu, who'd shown to only had vague memories of her mortal life.

"Oh, this'll be fun!" crowed Peroroncino. "Making my own map..."

"Fun? What fun?" asked his sister, Chagama-san. The bird-man wilted, as his sister continued, "You're not a cartographer. You'll probably just bumble about like some flying roomba. Speaking of which," Chagama's voice dipped as its severity grew, "Why are you so dead-set on exploring anyways? What're you hoping to find? And you've got no experience flying, let alone living the life of a bird. What if your wings get clipped? What if you get shot down? Got the presence of mind to use your parachute? What if you panic? What-"

An overwhelmed Peroroncino could only goggle at his sister, no doubt floundering about for a good answer, aside from "It's fun". Momonga quickly hopped to the defense, and said:

"W-well we do need to have eyes on the field, Chagama-san. It'll be important for when we finally begin our search for the missing NPCs."

Chagama made a skeptical sound, though they could tell she was still glaring at her brother.

"As for the search," Touch Me said, then he cleared his throat. "I have something to announce. I've decided to seek out Sebas' group of superhumans. I have a feeling they'll be good for giving us more intelligence about this world."

"Eh, you're leaving? But what about Nazarick?" Momonga said in a flustered tone.

"I think I can safely leave that to you, Momonga-san," said Touch Me warmly. "Besides, with this, we can be more efficient with our future plans. We _are_ going to clean up this world, yes?"

A chorus of affirmatives followed, though inside, Momonga was still surprised. And a bit disappointed. He had hoped to turn their incursion into "Old Nazarick"'s depths as some sort of guild activity.

Then again, with the bizarre turn this world had taken, and their transport to it, it was understandable for the rest to react differently to the situation they'd been thrust into, in their own ways. Momonga focused entirely on reclaiming Nazarick; perhaps the others saw this behavior as strange but just didn't say it to his face.

"Don't worry," said Touch Me. "I've plenty of teleporting scrolls, so you can just [Message] me if needed."

"Ah, my pardons, milords," said Sebas. "But I just have something to say about that particular spell."

"Hm? About [Message]?"

"Yes. I should just mention that there are now ways to intercept and block [Message] communication in this world. It's a technology that the native magic casters here somehow developed, and which has become the standard in this world. Anyone using and receiving [Message] over a specific area are tracked by these 'waystations'. Of course, they are not a threat to you, masters, but do keep that in mind should you wish to maintain secrecy in your plans."

A counter to [Message]? _Now wasn't that smart._ Momonga thought on the many ways they'd also used anti-[Message] methods back in the game, which of course was just SOP according to Punitto Moe-san's indispensable PK handbook.

"It really doesn't matter," Ulbert said. "They can track us, who cares? We'll also have our own code-words to make sure we are who we say we are. How about something like, [The God of Unlife is Momonga-san], or something like that."

They spent some time arranging the [Message] protocols, in light of what Sebas had said. They paid their gratitude to the butler, who only bowed deeply.

After that was done, Peroroncino said, "Well, if Touch Me's going, then I'll probably be going too. Well, not with them, but I'm gonna develop the map of this new world. No matter what certain people think." Chagama-san snorted.

"W-well, that's fine, Peroroncino-san," said Momonga. In his mind, however, Momonga again felt a surge of disappointment in his friend. _Was he the only one excited to reclaim Nazarick? Did that make him the weird one?_

"I shall not be travelling," Chagama-san announced. "But I'll also just leave Nazarick to you, Momonga-san. I'll be working instead on remaking Carne Village into something wonderful." With that, she turned a smile to the expressionless Nemu.

"Oh, so the EDEN tools are working?" Herohero asked.

Peroroncino laughed. "Oh it's working, alright. But not as well as nee-san wants-hurk!" The bird-man doubled over, hissing "Again?" in pain.

Chagama-san laughed airily. "Y-yeah, it's working, for the most part. Without the UI, I don't have any saved building templates. It looks like I'll be building things brick by bloody brick."

The "EDEN tools" referred to a sandbox-style system introduced in Yggdrasil 2.0 where a sufficiently powerful character (most of the time, a level 200 with mythic levels in certain classes) could create their own content within the game world.

Though anyone could capture and customize a guild base or city, and high-level casters could summon opulent mansions and forbidding fortresses with prefabricated designs, the EDEN worked slightly differently. It was actually putting models into the game, then it was up to the user to mesh them together into something recognizable, as if one were a developer. For example, one could build a skyscraper, a golf course, or even one's own apartment complex. The designs were near endless, limited by one's imagination and that only a certain number of "blocks" were allowed to be placed on the game world.

So one could not, for example, build a huge highway to bisect Midgar. But one could use blocks to grief other players by blocking access-this was fair game under the PvP rules, especially since the blocks were destructible.

Back in the game, Chagama-san and a few other guildmates had built a replica "world tree" complete with a treehouse that could fit the whole guild, using their combined blocks, which the guild had to routinely protect from other players. Though several times the whole thing was demolished, as the guild naturally wanted to focus on their more important goals, but with the EDEN tools, rebuilding was easy and quick.

"I wish I could try that," said Herohero. "Oh well." His class build had been insufficient for EDEN.

"How about you Herohero-san? Will you be doing something else too?" Momonga asked.

"Er... I'll be _here_ , Momonga-san, but I think I'll just go back to sleep for a bit."

"Seriously? A whole new world and all you want to do is sleep?" Ulbert said, smirking. Despite his tone, Herohero only snorted.

"Hey, don't knock it. I haven't had a good night's rest in a loooong time, man. I just want to laze around all day and not care about the next deadline..."

"W-well that should be fine," Momonga said, adding yet another tally of disappointment in his heart. Even if he knew that Herohero deserved the rest. Although he'd been promoted in his real life job, his responsibilities had only increased. In fact, several other guild members had even expressed concern for his health, including Momonga.

"You better be careful though," Ulbert remarked. "Too much ennui and you might end up like a mindless slime or something."

"Yikes," Chagama-san said drily.

"Well, in a way, I ain't kidding," said Ulbert. He pointed to Momonga. "Heck, Momonga-san here can't even sleep. He's incapable of it now."

"That's true," Momonga said, scratching his chin. In a way, it was convenient. It was like his body's urge to sleep had just been excised away when he came to this world. Now he never felt sluggish for rest, although casting several powerful spells seemed to drain him in a different way.

"So does that mean we have to make sure we don't become... mindless or whatever?" asked Herohero.

"I dunno. Maybe, maybe not. But what do I know?" said Ulbert. "I'm just your average dude turned demonkin."

"My body's extraordinarily light," Touch Me remarked. "Lighter than it's ever been. But I still can't get used to being able to bend my elbows whichever way I want. It's... eerie."

An uncomfortable silence settled on them all, as they contemplated the thoughts of their new bodies. Even the bubbly Chagama-san's body seemed to droop, like a dying flower.

"Hm? What's wrong milords?" asked Nemu. They all turned to look at their creation, who was kneeling at the edge of the room. She seemed to have sensed the sharp tension in the air. "Has something displeased you? Allow me to dispatch it, I beg you!"

After a beat of silence, everyone relaxed, sharing wry smiles and bemused expressions all around.

"I-it's nothing, Nemu-chan," said Chagama-san.

"She's almost like a daughter," Touch Me whispered. "It's so cute..."

"Wonder if any of the maids are like that..." said Herohero.

Peroroncino gasped. "Shalltear...! Oh my god, think of the poss-" he bit off the rest of his words, when he felt his sister's gaze.

Momonga cleared his throat, the only one still feeling uneasy about his "Champion". "Well, what about you, Ulbert-san? Are you going to do something else too?"

"Me? I'll be joining _you_ , fearless leader!" He slapped his clawed hand on Momonga's shoulder. "We shall reconquer Nazarick together, by golly. The World Disaster and the God of Unlife-we don't need no stinking World Champion! We'll be unstoppable! Well, we _literally_ will be, since we're level 200s and all..."

"Th-that's great, Ulbert-san," Momonga said. _It was strange_ , he thought, that Ulbert would be the only one as enthusiastic as him. Overall, he was saddened by the fact that it wouldn't be a full party that would retake Nazarick.

He wanted to argue passionately for that, because it would demonstrate their commitment to staying together in this strange new world-or something like that. But he knew he couldn't force the issue now that the others had decided on what they wanted to do.

 _Am I the weird one?_ Momonga wondered again. Was he perhaps strange for wanting to retake Nazarick in this situation: where Peroroncino wanted to explore with his newfound wings, his sister wanted to build a city, Touch Me wanted to start their campaign to fix the world, and Herohero just wanted to sleep. Of all, perhaps Touch Me was doing the more responsible thing, but did that make it the _only_ thing worth doing?

Such thoughts coursed through Momonga's mind, until he dismissed them. That was too unfair to his friends, who were just as helpless in this situation as him, and who were obviously trying to make the most of it. He didn't even know what he would've done if he'd been dragged to this world alone. No matter how much he wanted to shout at his guildmates: _we shouldn't separate, guys! What if something happens to any of us when we're alone?_

It'd become a great tragedy if any one of them died here, and there was nothing the others could do. Resurrection was an unsure thing, if they could even bring themselves to try it. So death in itself was not a scenario he couldn't even bear to contemplate.

But there was _that_.

Momonga's nonexistent brows furrowed. He didn't know how it'd work in this world, but it might become useful now.

When he'd become a God, he'd received a host of World Items to go with the title. They were all meant to be placed in the new [Soul] slot available to guildmates of the God. As World items they had considerable power, adding a permanent effect to one's character.

The guild knew about the existence of these items, but as per Punitto Moe-san's suggestion, their exact names and functions, save for one, were kept secret. This was a time when being a God painted a target on one's back, and there was no telling how desperate others might become to acquire it, even to the point of spilling out to real life.

They'd all remembered how a couple had been brutally murdered, because the husband had refused to hand over a World item to the murderer. If people could go to such lengths for a World item, how far would they go for several more? To become a _god_ of a famous game?

In any case, when examining the effects, Momonga had concluded that they were all just slightly overkill if they were equipped on his guildmates. Granted, he'd immediately equipped one of them because of its specific effect.

The [Hourglass of Purgatory] allowed him to prevent death once a day. No attacks below Divine rank, that is, something from another God, could 1 hit kill him, or cause him to die from an effect like [Greater Wish]. He had certain cash shop items that would auto-revive him, but these wouldn't be triggered under the Hourglass. Since Gods were naturally difficult to kill depending on their character build, this made Momonga a very durable one, which belied his new status as a Healing magic caster.

Not that he ever sought out fights willingly-it would've been a direct violation of Punitto Moe-san's rules.

The item also removed Momonga's weakness to positive energy-he could now be healed by both positive and negative.

The Hourglass was the only Soul item whose effects his guildmates knew, and it had helped immensely in their PK-PK baiting strategies.

"One moment, guys," he said slowly, raising a finger. "I understand that some of us want to do something outside. But it's an unknown place out there. Who knows what you might encounter?"

"If an emergency comes up, we have [Message], don't we?" said Peroroncino.

"I know. But it might be better to have... insurance." With that, he reached into his inventory and withdrew several of the items. He gave one to Peroroncino, his sister, and Touch Me.

"This is?" asked Touch Me, turning the glowing object in his hand.

"The 'Godly' items."

"Ooooh!" Everyone cried out in awe as they appraised the items in their hands. "The legendary items...!"

"Bringing out the big guns, huh?" Ulbert remarked, though he didn't comment on not receiving an item. Yet. Momonga wanted to say something to the point of he and Herohero not heading outside like the rest, but decided to explain the items first.

He had personally tested these items at least once, but that was only true in Yggdrasil 2.0. He wasn't sure what it might do here.

The item he gave Touch Me was the [Saronite Soul]. "To put it simply," he explained, "It's a super-armor type item. It's like if you're wearing a whole lot of divine-class armor-except without the weight limitations." Magic casters would also not be encumbered by it, which would have made the item his go-to, if not for the utility of _not dying._

"How much armor was it back there?" Touch Me asked. Momonga told him the number. The silver paladin whistled. "That's a lot of armor. I think... Together with the World Champion armor, this probably could've helped us fight the tarrasques!"

"Wow, dude-we had a trump card like that all this time?" said Ulbert. The tarrasques were special Behemoth-type monsters which had one of the highest combat strengths in the rebooted Yggdrasil. One strike could crumple even World Champion armor like flimsy cardboard, so the guild had to prepare a lot when hunting them for parts.

Momonga scratched his chin. "...Yeah, I discussed that with Bellriver and Punitto Moe-san. In the end they agreed that they would still rely on Touch Me-san and the rest. If the other guilds had known..."

"Ah, that was wise of you," said Touch Me. In the end, Touch Me and the other guild tanks had still proven their steel-relying on fancy footwork and lots of movement-enhancing spells to "kite" the Behemoths around.

Momonga's eyes slid momentarily to Ulbert. He recalled that the man had acquired a spell called "Summon Behemoth", which required a sacrifice of a thousand souls and 99% of the caster's life force. He didn't want to imagine him even attempting that, nor less the thought of an actual Behemoth running around in this world.

With only six of them, it really would be a great Disaster.

He'd given Bukubukuchagama the [Dead Meridia], which would obliterate the undead-any undead except for Deities classed as such. "I know Ulbert-san was able to nuke the...strangeness out of Carne Village, but there's no telling if there're other undead close by." Or if they'd rise up, like spirits in the movies back in their real life. Best to be certain.

If Chagama-san were to spend a lot of time there, then it made sense for her to get something to help obliterate the undead, even if she might also be powerful enough on her own.

"Hmmm... wonder if Nemu could use these items..." Chagama-san wondered.

"I don't think Champions have the [Soul] slot."

Lastly, the [Lidless Eye] went to Peroroncino. It granted one the complete set of [-vision] skills available to Yggdrasil 2.0, which rounded out the birdman's already considerable repertoire. "It can also-"

"Does it see through?" Peroroncino interrupted suddenly.

"I didn't test it that much, but it does have limited ability to detect karma, along with magical signatures through walls and such..."

"No, I mean does it see _through_ ," Peroroncino repeated. Momonga titled his head in confusion. It took Chagama-san striking her brother in the kidney area before he realized what his friend had meant. He cleared his throat.

"... In addition, the [Lidless Eye] also grants minor mind-altering vision-based skills," Momonga continued, awkwardly.

The remaining items which he didn't reveal yet were the [Third Staff of Eljudnir] and the [Sigil of the Maimed God]. The first granted one the ability to amass an infinite number of wraith-type undead, while the latter enhanced one's magical skills to an obscene degree. If Herohero had left, he would've switched out the Hourglass he currently used for the Staff, and if Ulbert had gone, he'd have gotten the Sigil.

There was one other fact about the items he didn't want to mention to his guildmates: anyone wearing the item was "bound" to the God who owned them. The God could thus summon the user to their side without limitation. He wouldn't use that little fact himself, though, not until an emergency came up. But it was a good layer of additional insurance, in any case.

Lastly he explained to Herohero and Ulbert why he didn't give them a World item, for now. The former took it in stride, but the latter tried to ask about the type of World item he would've gotten, though Momonga kept silent. Momonga didn't want to know what Ulbert would have done if he'd heard what the [Sigil of the Maimed God] could do.

"Would you permit this humble one to inform those still here in Nazarick about your return, milords?" asked Sebas next, after they had all equipped their items.

It had been a question that the butler had repeated several times, and they'd only answered vaguely. On one hand, it would be nice to encounter some other NPCs than Sebas, but on the other hand there was some trepidation-like witnessing mannikins come to life. Only Tabula Smaragdina would have loved such a development, everyone had agreed.

Still, that point was moot now, as only Momonga and Ulbert were willing to "recapture" Nazarick, and Touch Me would be taking Sebas.

"Would they even believe you?" Ulbert wondered. "You didn't even believe your... Creator," he emphasized that word, which made Sebas' expression tense and caused Touch Me to clear his throat.

"You are right, milord," said Sebas, bowing. He showed little emotion on his face. "As my most disgraceful self has recently demonstrated, there is that possibility."

"Then there can be no recourse than to fight our way through to the throne room, and have our guildmaster reclaim what is rightfully ours, eh?" said Ulbert. "Perhaps then, all of 'delinquent' Nazarick shall remember their duties and return to their rightful places. And we can revive the worthy ones, but let's leave that for later..."

Everyone glanced at Momonga, who suddenly felt a whole lot more self-conscious. He fidgeted, and said, "I-it would be great if we could, just so we can tell our friends back home that we were able to capture Nazarick." Whenever that would be, he didn't need to add.

"Then if that's the case, I'll be taking Sebas with me," Touch Me said, "But what about Nemu-chan?"

"Ohh, she's coming with me," said Chagama with a giggle, who bounded forward to wrap herself around the Champion in a tight hug. "Just us girls building a castle! Won't that be fun!"

"Very good, milady," Nemu said flatly, even as Chagama-san rocked her body to and fro. Her slimy body coiled around the Champion like a snake. Before long, Nemu's pressed suit was engulfed within Chagama's form, as if the latter were trying to devour the former.

"Ah, she's so smooth..."

"Er... nee-san, could you please stop doing... I can't deal with that fet-you know what? Never mind. Keep going."

After ironing out a few more details, the group's meeting ended, each member moving on to their desired paths.

"Be careful out there," Chagama told her brother. "Remember you've got those glider things in case your wings fail."

"Thanks for the sentiment, nee-san, but my wings won't ever fail."

"Good luck, Touch Me-san, Sebas-san."

"Thank you Momonga-sama."

"Listen, no matter what my Sebas here says, we should just [Message] if _anything_ comes up."

"Goodbye!"

"Farewell!"

"Happy hunting!"

Only Momonga, Ulbert and Herohero were left, the latter moving to one of the side-rooms in the third floor to sleep.

The first two went to the threshold between the third and the fourth floor. Momonga swallowed with his nonexistant stomach. He double-checked his equipment (a little needless, as he hadn't changed it at all since they'd gotten here), making sure that the right thing was equipped on his [Soul] slot. Then he nodded to Ulbert, hoping that his anxiety didn't show too much on his face.

Ulbert cracked his knuckles. Was it his imagination, or was he grinning just a tad too widely?

And why did he suddenly get a bad feeling creeping through his body like ice?

* * *

Uncertainty.

 _Is this a phantasm, or is this reality?_

"Nazarick" was the name given to the Domain of the [God of Unlife], Momonga.

This Nazarick was a hundred times smaller than its namesake, which now existed in a brand new world somewhere. From an architectural standpoint, it was just an endless system of halls, each connected by one small antechamber that fed directly to the next hall. One could teleport to whichever hall they wanted or needed to be. Each had been dedicated by Momonga towards different purposes.

Among such rooms was the Entrance Hall, which was the main hub for Ainz Ooal Gown members entering the Domain, the Hall of Treasures, which contained all their accumulated precious materials in the new game, the Vanity Room, decorated by the more aesthetically minded in the guild to be "something they could show off" to future members, and the individual member rooms, forty-one in total, which was keyed to each member-though as a function of a Domain, Momonga could still access all of them.

Presently, in the Entrance Hall, there was a certain situation that would have puzzled Momonga, had he been able to see it.

Sitting at one of the tables was a bizarre-looking humanoid giant, wearing luminescent green robes. Its clenched fists, laid on the table, were almost as large as the table itself. The small teacup cradled within those hands looked like a lonely steamship sailing into an island cove. The face was ugly, almost reptilian, with scaly, pallid skin; its eyes as large as the saucer on which the cup lay.

On a table beside it was laid a heap of various food-stuffs: sweet, steamed, soupy, seared were haphazardly gathered together in a large pile, from which another being ate freely and loudly. This one was best described as a big, vaguely round lump of mottled, seaweed-like hair, which would open up in one part to reveal a cavernous, tooth-filled mouth.

At the other side was another seating area: this time consisting of a couple of sofas and lounge chairs. Sprawled on one of the latter was a monstrous being, with corpse-like skin, and a head like a misshapen octopus. In one of its webbed hands was a book, from which the aberration read.

Then, on the sofa next to that being sat a large, bronze jar. On its outer surface were a number of strange runes and writing. Dominating the rest was a pair of runes that looked almost like eyes. Dull, white smoke steadily emitted out from its half-closed mouth.

There were two other beings near the "door", which led to the other areas. One was a figure dressed in a stereotyped ninja outfit, complete with long, red scarf and twin, slender blades-sheathed.

The other was a large figure in full samurai plate. In each of its hands, it held a humongous blade, almost twice as long as it was tall.

"Twin Stream Combo: Thousand Serpent Strikes!"

The armored figure moved, and a flash of light engulfed it. A great impact struck the "door", making the whole floor shake. A sound like thunder reverberated, then echoed away.

After a few moments, nothing happened.

"Tch."

"I told ya, it ain't something we can break down, Take-yan..." said the ninja.

"Oiii, you two, shouldn't you take a break~" said the giant drinking tea. It glanced at the other table. "Maybe eat some food..."

"Mmphh...!" said the seaweed monster.

A melodic, chiming voice echoed, coming from within the jar. "I keep telling you, this is just a dream... And all of you are part of it. Ahhh, and I've seen better scenarios from my assistants..."

"There's no reason to go into immaterial delusions now," said the pale aberration, turning a page.

"I'm just sooo bored!" the armored figure proclaimed. "We've been stuck here for a week!"

"No, it's only been a little over twenty-four hours," said the ninja. It held a familiar watch on its hand, from which the familiar, cute voice of their guildmate, who'd been a VA, had sounded.

"Oh my, are we going to be stuck here forever~" said the seated giant.

"Let us hope not," said the aberration. "A few more days and this'll turn into a free-for-all PVP zone."

"But Tabula-san, Momonga-shi's Domain prohibits PVP..."

"Not what I was going for-well, perhaps it'd be rude of me to suggest such a thing could happen to any of us. Fingers crossed."

"What're you talking about?"

This is just an ordinary scene-of a group of "monsters" trapped somewhere. But is it really happening, or is this a delusion? The faintest hint of a breeze, and this could all just disappear, like a mote of dust in the breeze.

"Aah! I don't care! I'm trying another combo! I've got dozens more Arts I can unleash! Whoohaa!"

One outcome would be: the door, opening. A reunion. A split in the stream.

Yet another: the door opens-and nothing. Another split.

Thus the question remains, and is presented to all:

 _Is this all a phantasm, or is this reality?_

* * *

Shou-san,

Here are some of the God items the team managed to complete the past hour. We also have some questions about these items below, and want clarification:

1\. ygg_2_dei_mag0_item_6 - isn't it as or more powerful than the vanilla Five elements Overcoming?

2\. ygg_2_dei_dea3_item_3 - unlimited wraith spam might not be good for the servers, we need limits

3\. ygg_2_dei_luc0_item_1 - unsure if typo, but it can or _can't_ work on other Gods?

4\. ygg_2_dei_war9_item_3 - we were told by Fukuyama-dono perma-invuln should never be a thing again, should we continue?

5\. ygg_2_dei_bst2_item_1 - effect is duplicate with God of Nature's item 3 (thanks to our own Akane-san for discovering)

That's all, thank you for the support and well-wishes. We shall continue to work hard.

* * *

 **Shurpuff says: One way or the other...  
**

 **So, this is to formally announce the new arc! Hopeful y'all are entertained proper.**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **More to come.**


	11. Omens

_The story so far: Momonga and five of his online guildmates have been flung into a whole new world, a dark and miserable place. In here, their bodies have been turned into that of their avatars, monstrous beings that had been worshiped by their former NPC servants-who were responsible for bringing this world to chaos in the first place. After their destruction of a hideous place called the Crossroads, what will each of them do now, when the call of destiny beckons?_

 _And now, on with the story!_

* * *

It was the highest arrogance to assume that the future could be predicted. Not even the Demon King dares to predict the future. Only the Gods are said to see time itself: past, present, and future knitting and unraveling before Their Gazes.

But divination, with its myriad practices across many cultures, was not outlawed. It has been decreed that it is the prerogative of fools to spend their dearly earned momongas on cheap fortune-tellings and the words of thieves and charlatans.

For there is a shred of validity in attempting to puzzle out the skeins of the fate. Some consider it luck, or coincidence, but events may be guided-by magic or other means-so that the future foreseen becomes real history, particularly for someone who needs to live in this world. All the more important, even, for one who needs to face death on a daily basis.

She, the leader of the adventurer team the Bloodied Horns, was one such devout adherent. And her belief has yet to fail her.

Every morning, after the daily ablutions, she would take stock of the omens that met her eyes-the number of people that would pass by, the presence of several omens of bad luck, even the presence of a breeze on the air. She would add it up in her mind, hoping to point to a favorable outcome. If it were, then the day would be assured, there would be no deaths for herself or her team, no matter how dangerous the job.

If the signs added up to a negative outcome, then she would absolutely refuse. They could impose a penalty, reduce their medal count, do whatever; but at least this way the Bloodied Horns lived to see another day. Her team-mates recognized the strength of her superstitions, and followed her lead faithfully, even if it lead to them turning down lucrative jobs. Even when a favorable outcome lead to a difficult conclusion-their horns would be bloodied, but they would not visit the Halls of Great Momonga yet.

Last night, a sign most perilous shook her to her core. A sign of the apocalypse.

According to the traditions passed around the world since before the Demon King, there were various portents of the apocalypse. But chief among these prophecies was that of The End Times. The Time of Gods' Fall.

The Demon King's arrival, and the Night Queen's appearance, had long been foretold. What had once been the obscure ravings of madmen and charlatans became True Prophecy when they actually came to pass. And so it was that the End Times, a passage that had yet to happen, was regarded with healthy trepidation. For it heralded nothing less than the end of the world, and that would just suck.

 **"The sun shall rise at night, fell things in the sky above, a great tomb desecrated; in the lands a new Blight, blood stains the elder grove, the night and the sky shall be mated. And when all these things have passed, when thunder shakes the shattered pillars of the Kingdom, when the brilliant dawn rises on an empire's ashes, Death itself shall walk on a lavender cloud, and the Gods shall walk again. The Gods shall walk again."**

She could quote the passage in her sleep. Sleep sometimes even evaded her-she feared to be asleep when the apocalypse began.

Which was exactly what seemed to have happened last night.

A sun blooming in the deep night; illuminating the distant horizon for a brief moment. Most shrugged off the ominous sign, seeing it as yet another of the Demon King's strange sorceries. But shivers ran through the spines of those who followed the prophecies, those who believed.

And then came word from the top. A secret mission, sent directly by the Magistros' office. Her foreboding soared-the moment they returned to the inn she shut herself inside the room, determined to run through every available divination. It wasn't just the combination of ominous events. There was the gut instinct, universal to all beings; the awareness that one's life hung by a spider's thread.

"Sister, it's time," Grud said, knocking on the door.

Her eyes rose from the table's surface. She saw the sunlight streaming through the window.

It was already well past sunrise. The Bloodied Horns had to sortie, and soon.

 _No... we can't. The auguries..._

Her throat locked up, almost choking. All the auguries were clear.

She pulled the Tarot of the Supreme, shuffled it. The Tarot had been one of the newest divination additions, propagated by the Kingdom and adopted by almost everyone who wished to treat with them. It involved suits that represented the Forty-One, and were said to perpetuate the mysteries of these distant gods. Then, before she placed the first card, she put it back, and reshuffled the tarot. It was cheating a little, but it was the only way to validate her suspicions. She played the new tarot.

Her hands shook. _Impossible_!

[The World Disaster]. Ulbert Allain Odle. Patron of the Demon King, and Destroyer of Worlds. An omen of doom, but sometimes, if appearing last, it foretold good fortune. His head pointed to the north, indicating no vagueness in the interpretation. As ominous as Lord Ulbert looked, the tarot's implication wasn't that horrifying by itself.

The next card. She gasped.

[The Supreme Above All]. Momonga, Lord of Death. The ultimate end of the Tarot, foretelling a number of similar endings in the future. Quite literally, it could indicate her death. In positive terms, it meant one was soon to be exalted over one's peers. His head pointed to the west, a position indicating the worst portents.

Combined, the two cards showed a brewing disaster. The picture of death and disaster combined could not have been more clear. But the third had yet to come.

She played the last card. Her whole body shook. Impossible. _Impossible!_ This was the _fourth_ time she'd played the tarot. And it played the exact same cards twice?

The [Three of Comets]. Three shining comet-like objects, over a burning castle. Pointing north-meaning it meant exactly as it appeared. It was said to picture the siege of the last human resistance years back, but that was just speculation. Aside from the mystic nature of the Comets, which usually connoted some sort of magical event in the future, [Three of Comets] indicated, as expected, disaster. An event long foreseen has come to assault one's life, and one should bear it, as the castle. If it had been reversed, then it could imply something more positive, but...

Altogether, the reading meant many things. It could even be interpreted as something completely positive. But the tarot reading was only one of many divinations she made. And all of them bore the same chilling results of impending doom and disaster.

"Spirits preserve us," she whispered. Her whole body trembled. The sunlight did not feel warm and inspiring at all.

* * *

They looked at each other.

"After you, Guildmaster," said Ulbert, gesturing at the door.

"No, no, after you," said Momonga.

They might be in wholly different bodies, but something about a completely unlit room in front of them still gave them pause.

"Fine, I'll just cast a [continuous light] first," said Ulbert, waving his hands to cast the spell.

Then the trap triggered.

* * *

"I see... it is certainly ominous," said Blubergg.

Grud nodded. "Any other time, and we would follow Sister's feeling. But now, it is an order from the Magistros. An order from the Demon King!"

"And we cannot refuse now, anyway," growled Sngwyferad. "We have already accepted! To refuse now would shame our souls forever."

She glanced around at her team. The Bloodied Horns, composed of four strong heteromorphs, survived despite their small number because of their innate strengths.

One had been a veteran of many skirmishes along the Night Border, which had sharpened his considerable skills. One undead or a hundred: he could cleave through them all with but the handle of his spear. Blubergg was strength incarnate.

Sngwyferad the Unpronouncable was also the Undetectable, a hulking monstrosity that could inexplicably hide in plain sight. He'd stolen from a vault of a Magistros out in the sticks, and the demon had rewarded his cunning and audacity with one less year fighting in the Arena, where he'd furthe honed his killing techniques.

Grud had a faith unshakable, even if it was to three different Beings. A practice frowned upon by society, this nonetheless gave him access to a stable of useful spells. He just had to pay almost three quarters of his annual pay to the three Temples, but as a self-proclaimed ascetic he claimed to have few worldly needs.

And then there was herself, slave to many auguries, secret heir to a line of seers in her old village. She bought her spells from the Temple of Yamaiko, but her worship was only lip service-her people prayed to older gods, and she shared their belief that the Demon King's Gods were mere fabrications, made to shackle an unruly populace. But it was good to fall in line with the times; one did not need to look at the humans to know where power now lay.

She sighed. "I do not intend to remind you, as always, to be careful. You've all already heard it plenty of times." Amused snorts were shared around the table. Despite the feeling of contentment around her, she could not feel relieved. She could not articulate to her comrades how fucking terrified she felt. It was as if a mouth was below them, waiting to swallow them all, and they needed only wait for it to open.

"Extra precautions then," Grud said sagely who seemed to have sensed her ill-feeling. Between him and her they had a host of protective spells, most meant to delay an enemy while increasing their chance of survival. Additionally, she had an amulet that would ensure quick teleportation back to the capital when she triggered it. It had been a very expensive purchase, and prone to being a target for thieves, but this was one of the few ways to address her intense paranoia. If the situation got very bad, she could flee, then come back with two other adventurer groups to revive them.

Sngwyferad grunted. "We can't leave yet anyway. We've still got to wait for that spiritual heteromorph."

"Hierophant," said Grud, blinking lazily at the Unpronouncable. "She's a Hierophant."

Sngwyferad scoffed. Despite their rise in status to be equal citizens under the law, most still saw the "spiritual heteromorphs" as upstart humans. Even those favored by the various Magistros knew to keep a low profile to avoid any unpleasant incidents.

Blubergg slapped a hand to the table. "My preparations are also complete, leader. My armor is ready to take on anything the future brings."

"We shall see if that is enough," Grud said, scratching his beard.

"The Gods are with us, old sage! You've certainly paid them enough for three of them to take notice!" Blubergg said, chortling.

"Excuse me, but are you the Bloody Horns?"

The table fell into silence. Four pairs of eyes swept to the side, where a small, cloaked figure stood.

"Bloodied Horns," said Sngwyferad. "Don't make the same mistake again, human."

"Ahhh, of course, my mistake, my mistake~~" The human bowed repeatedly, like a drinking bird. "Please do not mind this unworthy self, milords. I await your discretion. I am, of course, ready for our sacred mission."

 _A female_ , she thought, recognizing the scent. Five to make the party... and the newer member is a woman... She cursed her luck-the new signs pointed to an even more troubling impression.

 ** _Shit_**. This day was looking more and more to be the Bloodied Horns' last. She only prayed that a god out there was merciful.

* * *

"It's time, Sebas."

"Yes, milord."

"Be sure not to tell the others."

"As you wish."

"We ride! On my-be very sure not to tell Peroroncino. Please."

"I give you my most sincere assurances."

"Very good. Ahem. We ride! On a steed of JUSTICE!"

A burst of light illuminated the forest. From within a smoking part of the ground appeared a strange shape. When the smoke further cleared, it looked like a motorcycle, though only Touch Me recognized the shape.

"Amazing," said Touch Me. "It worked."

Sebas peered closely at the thing. "What is it, milord?"

"It's a special anniversary mount-I mean, it's a horse, a mechanical horse of pure JUSTICE!"

It was a mount. Touch Me had bought it on impulse back in Yggdrasil 2.0. Its design was very similar to a certain famous television show on a vintage series he'd watched. Of course, the appearance of the thing would incite jokes from his guild-mates, so he took care never to show it off.

But now, in this new world, he could do so with impunity. A real motorcycle, in a land lacking defined roads. Somehow, the idea appealed to him even more. He wondered if this thing would work.

"It is certainly a splendid beast, milord," said Sebas, as he watched his master mount the thing. After a few moments, the beast roared to life, bellowing a fearsome, thunderous wail. The horse began to purr like a great beast.

"It worked!" Touch Me repeated. "Astounding... it's almost like the real thing-no, it _is_ the real thing. In here, it's become-"

 _A celestial steed_ , thought Sebas, marveling at the creature. Its white-silver hide matched the Supreme Being perfectly.

"Come then, Sebas. We go!"

It took the steel-backed butler a few seconds to comprehend the command. "Beg pardon, milord?"

Touch Me pointed to a spot on the horse behind him. "Come ride on the back, Sebas. I want to test drive this thing."

Sebas hesitated. He recognized that mounting the horse in such a way would put him in close proximity with his master. He'd have to touch his master, to hold on.

"I... must respectfully decline," said Sebas, already feeling slightly disappointed. "Please, do go on ahead, milord. I shall certainly follow behind you."

"If this baby can get to the right speed, I don't think you could catch up, Sebas. Still, I'm not too keen on racing anyone yet. C'mon. Don't be shy."

Sebas swallowed. _Dare he hope_? But this would be akin to abusing his master's goodwill! Perhaps it was a test of some sort. Surely his master would not be this-

"Sebas." The command in Touch Me's voice was unmistakable.

"Then, I shall most graciously accept, milord!" Sebas said, with teary eyes. He mounted the strange creature. With trembling hands, he grasped his master's waist. It was the first time the butler of iron will ever felt such pure joy.

 _VROOOOMMMM!_

Crying that unearthly wail, the creature sped through the forest, a silvery blur through a sea of green. In the middle of that screeching battle cry came the voice of its master, who shouted through the wind: "Eeeeeyaaahooooo!"

* * *

"V-very well then. M-moving out!" she cried helplessly, turning to the small army of undead surrounding her. At her voice, the mindless legion moved, accepting her as their temporary master. There were a host of skeletal warriors, with a complement of archers and a couple of magic casters to support her.

Their equipment wasn't that good, but as they were to be disposable fodder for escorting her, they didn't need to be well-equipped. The masters expected her to flee at the first sign of trouble. If she failed to return to report, they would care little. And then who would be there to protect her sisters from the Night Queen? Nobody.

Still, the sight of so many undead around her was a shocking shift from when she was only entombed in the Night Queen's pleasure chambers. The Night Queen's capital was a nightmarish vision of hordes of rotting corpses walking in preset patterns around the streets, of scores of vengeful wraiths circling overhead, singing their unearthly songs without rest, of the hulking sentinels, knit from a hundred corpses, standing to attention at every corner like gigantic, misshapen gateposts.

The only glaring exception that seemed out of place in this city were the shining Temples dedicated to the Gods Peroroncino and Momonga, whom even the most devout worshipers deigned to visit in pilgrimage-unless it was to also join the Night Queen's armies in eternal unlife.

She recalled for a brief moment, when she was but one of many prisoners assigned to the camps, how she'd chosen Peroroncino as her patron God in a fit of feverish insanity. Perhaps this impulsive declaration had been heard by that distant deity, who had then capriciously assigned her to the very close side of a being who was said to be dedicated to that same god.

In her darkest moments within that hellish room, she wondered if she had truly been Arche Eeb Ril Furt, or if she was just another of these common thralls, her beauty and intellect manufactured for the sadistic whims of a vampire lord.

 _No... they are still here... I can still..!_

And so, with thoughts of doubt and self-recrimination, the thrall once known as Arche left the capital of the Night Queen's demesne, past silent, eternal sentries, past the ruins of an old arena, which was now the spawning ground for countless undead; then out through the ruins of the majestic gates, whose shattering by a mighty dragon signaled the end of an empire; and then out into the wilderness beyond, to her appointed mission.

* * *

"Excuse me, milady, but what am I to do?"

Nemu watched the Lady Bukubukuchagama wield some sort of big, pink hammer with stars along the head. The master had been staring at the hammer for quite a while now.

"Hm? Oh, never mind me, Nemu-chan. I'm just trying to figure out how to work this..."

They had returned to the Crossroads-or rather, the cooling crater that had been left of it after Lord Ulbert's rage had burned everything to ash. Surrounding them were the silent trees of the Dread Forest.

"...Gosh this is tricky. Listen, Nemu-chan, why don't you go have a look around for a bit? If you see anyone, please keep them busy for a while so I won't get distracted. But be sure to take good care of 'em, would you please? Don't worry, I'll call you over when I've got this all worked out."

"Understood, master," said Nemu, saluting.

For a good, long time the Champion Nemu just stood there, watching the master weave strange sorceries out of thin air. Inside its mind, it continued to process the last command it had been given. Over and over it repeated, as Nemu's mind tried to reconcile the command with its myriad native directives.

Her mandate as Lord Momonga's personal servant was easily and readily understood. And as long as none of her Creators countermanded the order, she was also expected to obey the order of one of the Creators.

Then, as if a light bulb dinged above her head, she understood what the master wanted her to do.

It was all so perfectly simple, of course.

The great Bukubukuchagama intended to weave a terrible spell. So she should not be "distracted"-that is to say, disturbed under any circumstances.

To "look around" meant "guarding the perimeter" from any insects foolish enough to enter the sacred domain of the Supreme Beings. Technically this whole world was the Supreme Beings', but her operational range was too limited to cover that big of a place.

So, she was limited to this forest then.

Further, "please keep them busy" obviously meant "merciless termination". Death, then, to any who would enter the forest. No exceptions.

Lastly, she would obviously "take good care" of the intruders. She should take such meticulous care that anything reasonably left behind of the hypothetical intruders would be so insignificant as to be unnoticeable by the Supreme Beings.

The logical conclusion was total annihilation.

Nemu produced the great bow granted to her by Touch Me, and then with a determined expression, faded into the shadows of the nearby trees.

* * *

The lines leaving the capital weren't usually this long. During this time of day these kinds of lines were for people going in: farmers with the latest produce, weary adventurers fresh from a quest, or those traveling by night for some reason.

Today there were as much people wanting to leave as those wanting to get in-to the utter confusion of the latter group. She was glad they had a special permit from the Magistros that bypassed the line, but they still needed to be processed at the gate.

There was a particularly odious merchant in front of them, who had a special permit from the Demon King himself and thus had priority, no matter how much they pointed out the importance of their mission. She crossed her arms and watched as the fat, salivating thing bragged to the chief overseer of the number of slaves he owned, enough to fuel a year's worth of sacrifices.

"What the hell are they so scared of?" Sngwyferad muttered, looking around at the lines of worried people down on the street.

"Hush, ignorant one," said Grud. "Leader isn't the only one who listens to the ritual calls of destiny." Sngwyferad grunted, respecting her too much to argue openly. Dissension in a professional adventurer group must always be kept behind close doors, but in this case, she didn't have cause to worry. They were all loyal, as long as she continued adventuring. In fact, she rather suspected each of the males were angling to take her as their mate when she wanted to settle down, and were only biding their time.

"They fear what is unknown, as all beings must," their "guest" said suddenly.

"Do not speak unless it is important, human," snarled Sngwyferad. "When we have need of your 'expertise', we shall let you know." Overhearing, the merchant turned to sneer at the human, licking his lips and baring his teeth.

"I humbly apologize~~" said the human, with a bow. She crossed eyes with the human's when its head turned her way. There was a hint of something there, like hate, or greed? But she had no time to worry about that-a human's thoughts were insignificant compared to all the tragic omens presenting themselves with each passing moment.

Everything she saw around fell within the purview of prophecy. There was much to interpret from the number of people gathered here as from the readings of human entrails. Greater, even, because the sudden confluence of energies in this place were said to be predisposed to greater sibylline expressions.

An argument here: who was arguing, why are they arguing, how did it end; the number of stuff on a cart there: are they fruit, vegetables, something else, are they all round, all different shapes, cursed artifacts or spoils from battle; or perhaps even the instance of a bird shitting down on somebody: what color his clothes, what shape the poop-stain, did the person ignore it, scream, whatever-the readings were endless. She hoped to at least gather a hopeful fortune before they left the city.

"We thank you for your patience," said the gate overseer, returning from his office. "I will be with you soon," he told her, handing a piece of paper to the merchant. She nodded silently, though her keen eyes kept observing. The exchange was not fumbled-a good sign. The process had not taken longer than one chunk of the "clock"-device she owned. Another good sign.

"Get ready," she told the Bloodied Horns, as she handed the Magistros' letter to the overseer. Belatedly, she had forgotten to tally the number of people in the room-the overseer had returned just as several of the guards had left. Their party was five, plus the three guards, the merchant about to leave, the junior official writing on the desk over there, and the overseer... That made-

A screech rended the air, the sound boring into their ears like demented worms. She, the Horns, the human, everyone within the chamber and outside fell to their knees, the unholy wail keening in their minds, the piercing sound so otherworldly that it seemed that it was stabbing into their spirits, crushing them beneath the awareness that here or there, they were not safe as long as-

She gasped. The noise was gone. On shaking legs, she scrambled up, the phantom noise still echoing in her mind.

"Fell things in the air!" someone outside shouted. The proclamation was duly echoed by others, and within seconds a cacophony of voices began to rumble like thunder, louder and louder.

"The prophecy!" "Apocalypse!"

Quite a number of people outside were staring up at the sky, pointing at the innocent clouds as if something sinister were hidden within. The scene quickly devolved into hysteria. The lines collapsed as those wishing to leave either struggled against the implacable demonic guards at the gate, or fled back into the city, to further infect the rest of the city with the convulsing madness. Those wanting to get in either abandoned their attempts and fled back down the road, or also contended with the gate guards, screaming for shelter.

An ill feeling stayed like a block of ice in her gut. _Of all the things to happen-_ She looked around at her fellows. A rattling sound, as of stones cascading down a cliff, indicated Blubergg quaking in his heavy mail armor. Grud was breathing heavily, his eyes peering up at the sky as if he were straining to see something. And Sngwyferad was huddled on the floor, muttering incomprehensible words, his expression far away. Near the door, the merchant was squealing like a stuck pig, flat on his back and flailing his arms like a helpless turtle.

"What was that?" Blubergg wondered. "A noise most foul, as if a voice were speaking to me from the netherworld..."

Amidst the terror and confusion, the human had the gall to laugh. "Beware the strike unseen, the shot unheard, the trap unnoticed. As spoken by Nishikienrai-sama."

"Shut up!" she snapped, her anger surging past her apprehension, almost making her strike the impudent creature. But she steadied herself at the last second. A conflict this early was bound to upset the winds of fortune.

She fumed, turning sharply from the human. Survival was the most important thing. It didn't matter what else would occur-the Bloodied Horns would continue to endure for another day. That was her duty.

There was no point tempting fickle fate by taking out her anger on an insignificant being.

"Let's go," she barked, and went out of the gate.

* * *

Grunting in frustration, Peroroncino unequipped the [Lidless Eye].

While at first the effects Momonga-san had described had been very promising, he was finding it difficult to narrow down the exact usage. It was rather like being ordered to operate a machine without any prior training.

The [Soul] item had given him a slight headache. The visions it gave him of things were either too close, like the microscopic surface of a distant leaf on a tree; or too confusing, like something he thought was a 'spirit filter', after which all kinds of purple shit showed up in his sight. It was all very unreliable, and very confusing.

He'd even thought he'd spotted a city somewhere, although he couldn't pinpoint exactly where it was.

"Oh well."

He'd rely on his own sight for now. There was a map that needed drawing.

* * *

 **Shurpuff says: With a milestone reached, the arc properly continues!**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	12. Ominous

_The story so far: Momonga and five of his online guildmates have been flung into a whole new world, a dark and miserable place. In here, their bodies have been turned into that of their avatars, monstrous beings that had been worshiped by their former NPC servants-who were responsible for bringing this world to chaos in the first place. After their destruction of a hideous place called the Crossroads, what will each of them do now, when the call of destiny beckons?_

 _And now, on with the story!_

* * *

They'd breached the fourth floor, and were now at the fifth floor, the freezing tundra. The previous rooms had been fun and interesting, but ultimately had not been real challenges. Maybe it was because of the fact that almost all of the expected guardian POPs and NPCs were currently absent, or that they were too high-level for any of the traps to affect.

The traps were still annoying, though. Which seemed to be working as intended.

In the past hour, they'd been working through a particularly interesting "encounter" on the last floor. The end result was their bodies had become completely soaked with water.

Momonga didn't really mind that his clothes were soaked and dripping, but Ulbert still had hair on his body.

"Is it really that cold?" Momonga said, looking at Ulbert.

His breath puffed out in short bursts. "Just a little. Nothing that can't be solved with this," said Ulbert, and lit a torch item.

Momonga realized the mistake a second too late. "No, wait, there's a trap-"

The trap triggered.

* * *

The Night Queen did not lay formal claim to the territories surrounding her capital. The former outlying towns of the Empire were left to become literal ghost towns, but the Queen did not exert her influence over those places. Further, she made no move for further expansion since the old Empire was ground to dust, and so the other beastman nations considered the old borders of Baharuth to be the Night Queen's as well; and so respected it without the need for a treaty.

Hypothetically one could overstep the bounds and pass over the border if one was brave enough. Some even thought that one could marshal armies and speed them directly to besiege the capital-yet that was only a fanciful thought. Bloodfallen had earned her reputation well on the mountains of corpses she'd personally left in her wake.

If there was one place which truly belonged to the Night Queen and which she took the trouble to enforce, it was her side of the Katze Plains, a massive area which lay to the west of her capital. It was an area steeped in foul negative energies, so great that undead could form naturally from its roiling miasma.

It had been in this place where the final battle had been won. In the aftermath, the Night Queen and Jaldabaoth met on the fields of slaughter and partitioned the land, beginning with this very plain. One fourth of it, on the Kingdom's side, was Jaldabaoth's, and the rest was left to Bloodfallen.

Arche remembered that day. She had been on this very Plain, belonging to that group of former Workers who'd taken up the sword to fight for the Empire. At that time there had been a loftier goal, to fight for humanity. Her sisters had been in the army as well, acolytes in the Temple. They had all been captured at the end of that fateful day, when hope died.

She led her troops into the plains, bypassing a single barricade where a vampire lady and her thralls inquired as to her purpose. Uncharacteristically, the creature had given her some advice on Arche's current mission-where to exit the Plains, how long she would follow the trail, with the Azerlisia Mountain Range as her guide, and then on how not to get ambushed on the way to the Crossroads.

"Best of luck to you, thrall," said the vampire in farewell. "Be sure to leave the Plains before nightfall-there's a planned resurgence near that wrecked ghost ship you'll pass by. If you're still there, those troops might get caught up in it. It does strange things to their mind, and you wouldn't want to go through the rest of your mission alone."

She wondered why the vampire had been so helpful. Most of the stronger undead she'd met had treated her like nothing more than a toy reanimated for the Master's whims.

"I'll keep that in mind," she muttered, clutching her staff tighter. Then, in an almost unheard whisper, she said, "Thank you."

* * *

Progress surged on, even in the Demon Capital. The city was always being updated: structures torn down or raised up, roads paved over or dug up, canals and catacombs excavated or collapsed. Situated right outside the city walls, the great quarries and workshops churned these industries on the backs of free and efficient human slave-labour.

The system was simple. Certain other cities of the Kingdom were responsible for the breeding, raising and training of this versatile livestock. More so with the last than with the first two-the oldest children born after the founding of the Demon Kingdom were still young. For now, they specialized in breaking down defiant and unwilling cattle into sufficiently servile products.

Great clumps of farms and camps dotted these settlements. In return for sending out their produce to the rest, they acquired grain and other important goods from the other cities, along with the support, authority and artisanwork from the Capital. The winding cycle generated happy citizens and adventurers, as well as legions of soldiers willing to wade to the front lines against the insidious armies of the Night Queen.

The camps at the Capital were not as "inhumane", relatively speaking. The humans were artisans who were needed to mold steel or shape stone. But even with their skills in crafts, they could still be culled for the daily sacrifices at the Terrace, and were still at the same level as dirt compared to the true citizens of the Kingdom. And their numbers still needed to be regulated.

The administrators under Jaldabaoth quickly realized that the average period required before a human could be of use as chattel was roughly eight years: nine months for gestation and at least seven for labor. It was inefficient to expect any more, and research on using magic to force bodily growth were still at its infancy. In fact, the Night Queen had them beat in cheap labor: any of her undead who were not sent to fight doubled as a labor force. Then again, there was no need for the Queen to provide a semblance of "life" to her citizens, so that comparison was moot. To augment this flaw in the program with the labor of true citizens was unthinkable, so a set regime of human breeding was heavily enforced.

"Sir Climb, over there." The man paused in his hammering of the stone in front of him, and glanced towards where his fellow had pointed. Emerging from the direction of the city were a gaggle of naked humans, all of them clearly female at first glance. A dozen other laborers were close enough to hear the whisper, but did not stop and gawk. An overseer was standing very close, with bloody whip ready to crack.

The man named Climb soon turned back to his work, and watched the womens' arrival out of the corner of his eye. The guards escorting the "fresh meat" forced the chained women into the living areas. He knew they would be shuffled off to the overseers' tent, where they would be processed, then sent off to the breeding circles, where they would wait until night-time.

It was the usual protocol, and Climb had seen it happen many times before in the other cities. The chosen "studs" would be called to those tents, where they would be encouraged to breed with these women every night until they were surely pregnant. The pent-up stress of a days' worth of hard labor was enough incentive, but sometimes force was necessary. The disobedient were given one strike: any more and they were summarily sent somewhere else. Somewhere very worse.

Climb watched the last of the women disappear out of his vision.

"D'ye want me to tell the overseer?" asked the man who'd pointed out the women.

Climb's face betrayed nothing as he worked silently. But he had heard the question, and was indeed considering how to answer.

Spend a long enough time in these camps, and even the "livestock" would find ways to subvert their masters, even if only in little ways. The demons serving Jaldabaoth directly were immune to such intrigue, but that didn't hold for their demihuman minions. These other guards and overseers had needs of their own: little nuggets of lust and greed that could be exploited to their advantage.

Promise them such things as a private time with one of the slaves, or a chunk of precious gem nicked from the foundries; and they could look the other way during certain moments, or divulge the upcoming guard rosters, or acquire certain tools forbidden for humans to carry. The system wasn't foolproof, and there had been a few busts and betrayals where the demonic overseers purged entire camps mercilessly for suspected sedition.

Then again, once one had survived long enough in these camps, it became almost instinctive to spot a fellow slave who was bound to betray you in exchange for some leniency, or a guard attempting to win glory by exposing sedition. One needed to trust that danger sense, which had been honed to a keen edge under the overseer's lash.

Climb had an arrangement with a certain overseer, who could assign a stud to any female's tent. Climb had set this up for himself and the other men. They worked at the quarry more, and were more keen at discovering rare metals to line the overseer's purse. Naturally, the overseer thought Climb's group were only trying to fulfill their lecherous urges, a notion Climb did not try to correct.

"Yeah. They need more members." Climb stood to full height, ostensibly to stretch his back for a moment. In that same moment, he nodded at three other men in the distance, who were bound for another area, where they could pass on a message. Climb gave them the signals, which the three acknowledged with a nod.

The men would alert the few women assigned to the breeding circles. These women would then quickly take stock of the newly arrived women, finding the few with the potential to be useful. Their leader was a woman named Hilma, who had been a courtesan from the old Kingdom, and had much experience in vetting a person quickly.

Hilma would then compile a list of candidates, arrange them in code according to the tents each girl was assigned, and then pass them near the end of the day back to Climb's group. Then they would alert the overseer, who after payment would assign each tent to each person of Climb's group, including Climb himself.

Climb was well aware that any of the steps were risky. Betrayal was a very high certainty. Climb or his men would come to the tent, and instead of a frightened woman, they'd find a bloodthirsty enforcer. Or Hilma's group would snap under the pressure, and later that night Climb's people would be snatched out of their tents, never to be heard from again.

He knew the risks, but was willing to go through with it anyway. Slowly but surely, like the massive stone before him, the small visage of "hope" would be revealed. And until that time, he would ensure that its faint promise lingered in his heart.

"Oh shit, sir, over there!"

Climb looked-in fact, it was more accurate that all the slaves nearby looked-as they beheld something which any human would only ever see once in their miserable lives, if they were lucky enough to live that long.

The Demon King, in the flesh.

A surge of some foreign emotion went through Climb. His knees quaked, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails drew blood, and he gnashed his teeth. He had seen the Demon King personally several times before, and each time his presence heralded some sort of doom.

The creature always wore some sort of grotesque mask, leading many to wonder what sort of hideous features needed to even be hidden. He was flanked by several hulking winged demons, all absolutely loyal to him. Then again, no one would ever try to assassinate the Demon King-Climb had seen personally how he had dueled the strongest human he'd ever known to submission.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Climb muttered. It was a testament to the Demon King's sudden and awe-inspiring appearance that even the overseers joined their slaves in gawking-it was so unusual for the leader himself to appear personally in a place like this.

Belatedly, they realized that Jaldabaoth's attention was turned towards them. Even Climb quickly ducked his head and made to appear busy. His heart hammered fast in his chest-if anyone here did anything wrong it would only take one word from Jaldabaoth for the whole camp to be purged.

After a few tense moments of idle work, an overseer shouted. "To the front!"

The ingrained orders made their bodies move almost automatically, as each worker dropped whatever they were doing to make a mad dash towards the central area of the work zone-where Jaldabaoth waited. They did not need to be told to form rows of properly formed lines, side by side; nor did they need to be reminded to be respectful and keep their heads down before a clear superior, in this case the Demon King was the highest authority they would probably ever meet.

Climb stood among a throng of disheveled, unwashed, raggedy, dust-ridden people, palms calloused and bleeding, sweat staining every inch of their bodies. A few of the watching overseers turned up their nose at the combined stench.

After the overseers saluted their liege, the Demon King stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back. Climb could feel the penetrating gaze from within the mask sweep across their number.

"I require those willing and able to aid us in a grand undertaking. Are there those among you brave or prescient enough to volunteer now?"

After a very long moment of the humans not saying anything, the surrounding overseers began to shout.

"Oi, answer the lord, worthless scum!"

"It will be a hundred lashes each if you do not speak!"

The King raised his hand, which silenced them. "Come now," he said. "This is a rare opportunity for those such as yourselves to ascend. Indeed, we shall reward those who volunteer handsomely-Ascension will not be the least of the fruits of our gratitude. Such is our mercy and generosity."

Still no one spoke.

"Very well," said the King. "That is your choice, even if it is quite ill-chosen. Thus, we regretfully are forced to do this: [Kneel.]"

 _This feeling...!_ Climb gnashed his teeth, as a tremendous force, far heavier than anything he could ever carry on his shoulders, began to weigh his whole body down. It was familiar, in that he'd experienced it first-hand several times before. It was the supreme ability of the Demon King, who could reduce the will of even the greatest warriors into so much scattered rubble.

It was this compulsion that had left him to watch helplessly on that wretched day as the world shattered to dust before his eyes.

Around him, all the other slaves were also on their knees. He wheezed mightily, straining to fight against the pressure in his mind.

He breathed once, twice, his hands tightening, nails digging into dusty palms until blood flowed. With a mighty effort, he forced his head to tilt upward, to look up, to at least show the King that not all had been cowed by his conquest.

 _Oh shit._

He realized too late: that had probably been what the King had been looking for. As he thought that, the intense pressure faded, and the Demon King pointed directly at him.

"That one."

He stared, wide-eyed, not even daring to meet the pitying eyes of the people beside him as he nodded woodenly and rose to his feet. The King pointed out several other people, some of which he recognized as his compatriots. Climb's heart fell. Had their little cell been discovered after all?

"Here you! Come on and don't dawdle!" the closest overseer snarled at him. Climb and the other people chosen walked up to him. Another overseer bellowed, a signal to the other slaves not chosen to return to work.

Climb couldn't help but stare around him nervously. Aside from a few exceptions, almost everyone in his group had been chosen by Jaldabaoth. Years of work down the drain, if his fears were true. He only hoped no one from the cell snapped under the pressure and spilled their secrets.

"Milord, where shall we send these ones?" asked the chief overseer, a demon.

"We shall supervise their transfer," said the Demon King. He seemed to be smiling as he stared at their group. Whatever thoughts that could be gleaned remained locked behind that sinister mask.

* * *

The cloud of dust settled, revealing the strange shape within.

The outpost's guards had been watching the thing approach for the past five minutes. They had marveled at the thing's apparent speed-from the outpost they could see over hundreds of miles of plainsland towards the edge of the Dread Forest in the distance. It would have taken even the fastest horses at least five hours to reach this outpost.

For that matter, how did they even find this outpost? It was very cleverly hidden according to the Demon King's specifications, and only those serving him knew its existence.

To be safe, a quick [Message] was sent to the nearest outpost regarding the strange object. Which appeared to be some sort of white thing, straddled by two... humans?

The guards looked at each other. The mystery deepened with every second.

One of the guards, a lizardman with keener eyesight, described the humans. One was a half-naked thing, wearing a strange mask, and apparently had no visible weapons. The other was an old, bearded man dressed like a butler. The descriptions again made them scratch their heads. What the hell was going on?

Then the old man approached. This set the whole assembly on guard.

They had their orders. Maintaining the presence of this outpost was of utmost importance to the Demon King. No one was exempt from scrutiny, especially not humans, who could not be trusted with such delicate work.

The old man continued to advance. One of the guards saw something strange-without their noticing, the strange object they had been mounting had disappeared. The other human just stood back, its arms folded.

"Stop, in the name of Jaldabaoth!" their chief bellowed, his hand upraised. The approaching man did stop, just out of range of their spears-but conveniently within the range of their magic caster, who was hidden and ready to use a scroll of [Magic Missile] from atop the wall.

"Good day," the man greeted, as if they were just meeting at a street somewhere on the Capital.

"Surrender peacefully, the both of you," said the chief. "We shall make your deaths an easy one."

"I believe I am unable to obey such a request," said the man. To them it was almost like he was grinning. "I have, after all, a true master. But I should like to inform you that the very same master has requested, respectfully, that you evacuate this outpost. Yes, we know it is an outpost," the man said, in response to their looks of surprise. "I can guarantee your lives if you leave, now. Especially you there, up on the tower."

There was a moment of incredulous silence. Then they laughed, almost simultaneously. "That's rich!" one of them said with a chortle. "Old man, call that man over, we will tell him to be a better minder of a senile old fart like you in the next life."

As if indeed summoned, in the next second the half-naked man appeared, standing between them and the old man. Immediately, weapons were readied-and the chief raised his hand to ready the signal. It was worth it to be prudent-these men must be confident in some thing if they wished to take on an outpost by themselves. Perhaps they were those rumored strongmen hiding in the furthest corners of the world, last remnants of a servile race.

"Milord?" asked the old man.

"I've got to test something, Sebas," said the half-naked man. The name "Sebas" made some of the guards stir-that was the name of a man ranking among the list of most dangerous individuals in the Kingdom. He was worth a lot, dead or alive. Of course, no one was brave enough to try to track the man down. Sebas was said to have duelled Jaldabaoth to a stalemate.

Come to think of it, that bearded old man did look like the Sebas on the portraits. Those who recognized him began to shake in their boots, wondering idly if they could speak up and accept his deal. On the off-chance they were wrong, though, their fellows would surely turn on them for treason.

Their decision was taken out of their hands when the half-naked man literally blurred out of existence. For a moment, there was complete, shocked silence. And then-

Darkness.

* * *

The demihumans lay in a heap. Atop the wall, the magic caster lay against the wall, a bump slowly forming on the back of its head.

"You knocked them out, milord?" Sebas inquired.

"I had to see if I could," Touch Me said. He looked down at them. No creature had been killed, which was an acceptable outcome.

He had decided to visit one of those "monitoring" outposts Sebas had told them about. These supposedly intercepted [Message] spells all across the land. It had the makings of a rudimentary surveillance network, which Touch Me was familiar with. The problem was that he was effectively on the receiving end of the surveillance now.

Sebas knew of the location of one outpost, having scouted it several times during his solitary journeys. It was just close enough to the Dread Forest that they were able to dip into a detour. Along the way, he'd decided to stow away much of his equipment into his inventory, even Momonga's Soul item. He was as naked as his Disguise.

It had been demonstrated that even a single punch would kill the average inhabitant of this world. Such had been the systems of that game world "translated" to this new reality. He needed to restrain himself, to focus on doling out love taps so he wouldn't accidentally kill anyone.

And it had worked just now. Even without equipment, he had still been able to move fast, approaching every one of the demihumans like they were just statues, then delivering a slight tickle-just a little flick of the barest tip of his pinky-to the back of their heads. Everyone had been knocked out cold before they could react, and no one had died.

The decision to use the tip of the pinky had been spontaneous. He shuddered to think what the full finger could have done.

"Sebas, is anyone here from Nazarick?" Touch Me said. Sebas shook his head in the negative. Touch Me looked down again at the fallen creatures, then nodded to himself and went deeper into the outpost. Though they served the insidious influence that had twisted the world so much, he could not just lay down judgment on a few soldiers. To him, they were just random grunts, doing their jobs. He wouldn't fault them that-not until they started doing something like killing before his eyes.

Inside one of the small wooden huts, the desk technician was slumped over the table. She had been the last he'd incapacitated. Sebas moved her over to the side while Touch Me looked over the instruments and documents lying on top.

He couldn't read the gibberish on the papers-it turned out Sebas could not as well. But the butler could name the strange, round instruments. They were apparently of dwarven design and had been layered with enchantments that keyed in to the- and Sebas lost him there. Touch Me gently interrupted the butler to ask if he knew how to operate this thing.

"Regretfully, I do not." Touch Me was slightly disappointed. There had been a plan to subvert the outpost for their own purpose, using [Charm] scrolls, or with Chagama-san's help, but that possibility was gone.

Sensing his discomfort, Sebas continued, "But we could bring it to the group we're going to meet. Maybe someone in their number knows."

* * *

The Crossroads lay just ahead. They had made their best time coming all the way here, and now it was almost sunset.

Every omen she encountered only showed her a terrible future, and there had been no sign of a counter-balancing fortune-even a glimmer of a hopeful reading would have cheered her right up.

Well, there was no time to reflect on that now. They were here.

The Bloodied Horns prepared for combat. Blubergg drew his weapons, Sngwyferad was ready with his sensory skills, and Grud prepared a protective spell that would deflect at least one surprise attack. The human drew a pair of daggers from her bosom.

"Sngwyferad," she said.

"...Nothing," he said after a few seconds. That was both good and bad. That meant there were no enemies near them; that also meant that there were no friendlies either. Something had happened to the garrison on this side of the Crossroads. At least one of the Magistros' suspicions had ended up true.

They were always prepared for everything, even an army; but this time she had told the Bloodied Horns to prepare specifically for a running fight. The omens were so hopelessly stacked against them that it was almost blasphemy to ignore the signs by Godmother Fate and continue on. But at least they could be prudent in some things.

The road was too obvious; so they chose a different route through the forest. Blubergg led the front, confident but watchful, ready to protect his comrades with his massive body. Sngwyferad drifted off to the side, already a whisper of a shadow among the trees. Although they disliked it, they made it so the formation placed the human in the middle-rear, flanked by Grud and herself. They didn't care a rat's ass, "ascended" human or no, but it was a mission, and they had to look professional, even if they'd end up just abandoning the human later.

Had she not known of the nature of the Dread Forest, she would have been struck by the sheer stillness of the place. The trees were eerily silent, devoid of any buzzing, bleating creature. In the fading sunlight, the trees looked almost like a contingent of sentries, forever made to stand in this place. Blubergg's heavy hoofsteps would have echoed shrilly in the silence, had it not been for the spell they used to muffle their approach.

There. Even she felt it. A shift in the air. Their instincts honed by years in the blood-stained fields, the adventurer team felt the danger as if it were staring them in the face. Blubergg tensed, bracing for a sudden attack. Even the human felt it, as she bent her body, ready to spring.

She looked around. She could see nothing, but the faintest presence was definitely there. If it were trying to hide like this, then it definitely wasn't friendly. She glanced at Sngwyferad, whose shadowy frame was now creeping forward through the undergrowth, in an attempt to scout out this invisible threat.

She wondered if it were a new type of undead birthed from the Night Queen's nightmare. There were rumors that such creatures were routinely ambushing parties all over the land. Each were said to be wholly undetectable by even the strongest magics and were as ghastly wisps, impervious from mortal steel.

Whatever this unseen enemy was, it seemed to have definitely caught sight of them. She wildly looked around, cursing herself on their current position: danger lurked from behind every one of these damned trees. She tapped Grud's shoulder, and the latter understood her intent without needing to be told. Grud would fire a loud, bright spell over in a direction, and it would hopefully distract the enemy just enough for them to see it.

She was reminded of one of the Forty-One's adages, though she couldn't quite recall exactly which god had said it. "Throw a punch to start the fight," did not sound like divine wisdom; but in this case it really applied. Now if only-

A wet, choking sound broke into her thoughts, and she realized that the front of Grud's body was now littered with a dozen arrows. All of them stared for a single, shocked moment; until Grud's eyes became milky slits and he collapsed, his last spell dead in his throat.

She dove to the ground over Grud, already weaving a quick spell to check if his life could be restored.

"Brother!" Blubergg roared, turning around. Before she could shout a warning, Blubergg jerked to a stop, like a fish speared out of the water. He coughed mightily, a spray of blood foaming out from his mouth. The mighty steel pillar of the Bloodied Horns fell, collapsing like a rotted tree.

She could see the arrows stuck in her comrade's body, precisely hitting gaps in his armor where his skin was exposed. Sngwyferad had derided him those spots, pointing out how he could stick a dagger-

A howl echoed, and she knew it was Sngwyferad's, and his cry was as of a rat-man squealing its last breath; though her comrade was stronger than mere rats.

And when she looked to find him, she saw there, in the air above her, the Doom that destiny had screamed at her to avoid. Time seemed to slow, as the weight of the realization began to settle.

"Grovel, scream, fight. Live, by the gods. Tomorrow is always a new day," her mother had told her. An old crone when she finally bit the dust, but at least she'd died with dignity. She had tried to live by her advice, but now, it was moot.

She could only watch, mesmerized, as death approached as surely as the dawn. The dawn that none of the Bloodied Horns would ever see again. Blubergg, who had wrestled trolls in the mountains of his youth, Grud, who had defied his clan's expectations to become a scholarly man, Sngwyferad, survivor of a thousand battles, cunning and brave-

And then-

"They're not comets," she heard someone murmur. Perhaps it was her. She watched the three gleaming projectiles sail ever closer, their arrowheads glowing brighter than those celestial beings. It was so like, and yet unlike, the picture engraved on the tarot. "They're ar-"

* * *

"Oh buuull _shit_!" said Clementine, as the last of the bullmen died. "Learn to dodge, you fucks!"

* * *

Posted on 09:12:22, 21 October 2XXX:

 _motherfucker face me u cunt virgin bitch ima fucking cut u_

 _u think stupid bot ass champions can save you? ima gank u bitch, just u w8_

 _bitch be prepared for a legendary BEATDOWN on ur cheating ass fool_

 _gonna take yo god title, take yo wife, yo kids, yo life, gonna fuck u to hell_

 _no one beats the reaper, no one!_

Posted on 09:13:01, 21 October 2xxx:

 _And here's this fag (lol)._

 _Look man, the god system is here to stay. If you really hate being ganked by champions or heralds or some shit (lol), git gud!_

 _Or get a fucking god title yourself. Or quit. You can do that. There's a whole bright, beautiful world out there (lol)._

Posted on 09:15:12, 21 October 2XXX:

 _are u the one who tried to ambush me with your fag ass guild? u guys fucking suck bro. time stop mechanic counters are basic for everyone (lol)._

 _Deus Vult, "motherfucker"!_

* * *

 **Shurpuff says: And another one.  
**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	13. Opening Shots

**The story so far: Momonga and five of his online guildmates have been flung into a whole new world, a dark and miserable place. In here, their bodies have been turned into that of their avatars, monstrous beings that had been worshiped by their former NPC servants-who were responsible for bringing this world to chaos in the first place. After their destruction of a hideous place called the Crossroads, what will each of them do now, when the call of destiny beckons?**

 **And now, on with the story!**

* * *

 _"...and then He said to him, 'Two to the one to the one to three, it'll take more than that to break me.' Thus Luci*fer absorbed the powers of his enemies and left to help Punitto Moe avenge the insult..."_  
-the Fourth Scripture of the Supreme

* * *

Peroroncino wanted to fuck.

Like, seriously.

He was proud of his secret shame. However his sister might disapprove (and she always did), he was what he was. He couldn't change that. And the truth of it was that his libido was quite insatiable, no matter where he was, no matter what he was-especially even if he was currently a birdman with a discomfiting new body.

He wanted to thank whatever bullshit entity sent them to this place, because he found that he could use certain items in his inventory in rather "creative" means.

His first masturbation in this new body had been... strange. It had been nice, it had quieted his libido a bit, and it made him all the more aware of his current circumstance as a big bird-man.

He could almost pity Momonga-san or Herohero-san. He was happy he had his little jerry still here, even if the jerry was shaped rather differently, and the resulting orgasmic residue ended up... a strange disgusting mess.

But now, his libido was back in full-force when the implication of their circumstances in this new world hit like a truck. His wild imaginations, crucial to his solitary wanking sessions, spun through scenarios left and right. Could one build a harem of beauties in this place? Were there sexy monster girls in this world? Could he actually, finally, make love to a slime girl?

"What was that, little brother?" said the mental image of his sister, who was now a blob of slime.

 _Uhh... scratch that thought._ Fuck, now he couldn't unsee it.

 _Think of Shalltear!_

Ohh... fuck now that was better. He wondered where his little NPC was. Now there was a girl closer to his heart. He could well imagine that pale vampire bouncing up and down on his lap, gasping and moaning, crying out his name, as he...

"Raaaghhhh!"

With his lusts soaring higher than the heavens, he could barely concentrate on making the map as he'd promised. His massive boner never abated, and it was all he could do to not start jacking it so high up in the air. Clutching his bird-boner like a baton, he abandoned all pretense of work and flew off without any certain direction.

* * *

 _A moment of silence for the vaunted Bloody Horns,_ Clementine thought. _Oh, who am I kidding._ The way all those bullmen just up and died like stuck pigs in a slaughterhouse had been hilarious as fuck. Each of the images of their horrible deaths would be fond, amusing memories later.

At least, if she managed to survive this encounter herself. And boy was it as hair-raising as the time she fought the "world's strongest" Sebas all those years ago.

[Cheetah Speed]. [Wind Stride]. [Greater Flow Accelerate]. She had already activated all of these martial arts, and had consumed a whole bunch of magical Scrolls, just to boost her movement and evasion to almost legendary levels. She was as a blur in the forest, zipping from tree to tree like a swift gust of wind.

And yet all of it combined only let her avoid death with but a nail's breadth. She spun and twisted in midair as three arrows flew past her body. Each arrowhead barely grazed her bare skin. She didn't need a [Detect] martial art to know that even one of these arrows would be fatal if it hit.

More disconcerting than the deadliness of the arrows, though, was the identity of the attacker. It seemed to be some sort of warrior, wearing splendid equipment. Its armor was dark and forbidding, its eyes glowing like gems from beneath its fanged helm. It moved with superhuman speed, drew, aimed and fired those arrows all within two seconds. That it had surprised her and the Bloodied Horns without revealing its killing intent was nothing short of legendary-only a few beings had ever surprised Clementine in this way.

"Damn it," she wheezed, as she once more suffered through a barrage. One of them clipped straight through her cloak, making a clean-sized hole through the "divine" material. _Bunch of hacks,_ she thought, recalling the demons preaching that boring ass creed about the gods. _Can't even make something that'd last._

What the hell was this thing? A new servant of the undead queen? If it wasn't, could it be one of those rumored strongmen? She had heard of the stories of human survivors running free and biding their time by training their bodies, amassing power, and forging artifacts. All of it seemed like cocked up fantasies made by lunatics who still dreamed of the return of the status quo.

No dice, fools. The beastmen ruled the world now. Even the vaunted Theocracy had been squashed underfoot, and those guys had been the best humanity could offer, much as she hated them. No, survival was not in holding to old dreams, but in actually surviving. In ensuring one did not become a sacrifice for the demented religion; or that one did not die of disease in the breeding pens, or from sheer exhaustion in the many labors bequeathed to slaves.

Clementine whipped her head back, her neck almost snapping as an arrow nearly impaled her brain. She felt a brief flash of pain on her mouth, and a momentary lick confirmed that the arrow had broken her lips. The coppery stench went up her nose. "...Bitch."

In fact, why was she on the retreat? Nothing in this world was invincible. Such a creature, with its deadly aim and preternatural speed, might just be weak when attacked. In fact, she could decapitate the thing with a well-aimed dagger.

[Enhance Weapon], [Might], [Steelsong] among others were activated. If she had still been her old self, the sheer number of martial arts activated would have burned her out, like an old piece of charcoal. But the Demon King was generous to his hierophants, in so far as hounds were appreciated for their sporting tricks. Clementine's body had received a number of modifications that had pushed her flesh to the absolute limit.

The term "spiritual heteromorph" now fit the hierophants all too well.

As she kicked off from tree to tree, she left large impacts on the trunks, deforming them as if a giant had kicked in the bark. No longer the fleet whisper, she was a juggernaut who could have taken on the Bloodied Horns all by herself. She strained to match the rhythm of each of the thing's barrages, feeling for a pattern, and for a hole within it where she could strike.

When she thought she found it, she struck, hurling the blessed dagger with all her might. She could feel it connect mere seconds before impact; such were the instincts of a killer. With a dull thunk, her dagger struck through the hole of the armor right between the eyes, halting the barrage in its tracks.

Clementine landed, and watched with mild relief as the thing slid to its knees, before slumping to the ground in a dead heap. After a cautious beat, she relaxed her body. She dusted off her hands. "Still got it," she murmured.

With a small smile returned to her face, she approached the corpse jauntily, whistling a tune as she walked.

Then the thing rose to its feet, like a puppet drawn up on its strings. It slowly drew the dagger from its forehead. Its glowing eyes regarded the weapon curiously for a moment, before flinging it aside.

Then it nocked an arrow.

"Bullshit."

* * *

Things got a lot more complicated when Arche tried to lead the group through the Dread Forest. Without precise control (which was not given to a thrall), an army of the mindless undead had a difficult time navigating through the mass of trees and undergrowth.

She had to resort to ordering them to go single-file, while she chose the widest pathways she could see. The notion that it was tactically unsound did not occur to her; she had only ever been a low-ranking soldier in life, and a worker before that.

The Dread Forest had a peculiar stillness to it; seemingly lifeless in spite of the all the greenery. She disliked the endless silence-it was too much like being back at the Mistress's cage, locked away in a room with no window, with no light, and with only the stone walls and her fears and dreams for company. The Forest was an even stronger contrivance, with the silence pervading every inch of its domain. She had heard it said that an ally of the Night Queen had done much to eradicate all animal life in this place. Any friend of that monster was certainly as monstrous.

Consulting her map, she found that she was nearing her destination. And yet, looking around she could spy no walking patrol of undead. It was unusual, but not unheard of. But going by the nature of her assignment, their absence could also mean something else.

These shambling corpses were not particularly fast, but they were durable and effective shocktroops against all but the most veteran of the beastmen sent to the Katze Front. Some were also cursed to be able to pass on the "rite of undeath" to any they killed, automatically raising their bodies as new undead once their lives ended. It was a token force, but it was far from helpless.

A noise stirred her from her thoughts. It was familiar, and sounded very much like... fighting? No, those were arrows being slung through the air. She called a halt, raising her hand to make the undead stop. Arche looked around-trying to place the source of the noise through the thick mass of tree trunks surrounding her.

The trees suddenly burst inward, as a yellow blur sped past her like a breeze-too fast for her eyes to register. Shocked, she looked that way in confusion.

Then the arrows came raining down.

"[Repel Arrow]!" A small barrier shimmered in front of her, as the arrows descended all around her. They pierced and impaled her troops by the dozens, turning them into so many pincushions. Though near all of them got hit, she didn't need to worry about them. Though not completely impervious to attacks, the undead drudges could be counted to resist arrows that were not enchanted against them.

She gritted her teeth and backed away, keeping her barrier towards the direction of the attack. She glanced towards her troops, ready to bark a command, but faltered when she saw the inexplicable.

There _were_ no troops. Everything had disappeared. It was as if they were never there; no rotting remains, no bones or pieces of disgusting fluid to indicate that the undead had just been here.

"Analysis complete," a voice said.

A wide-eyed, trembling Arche turned to the source, and saw a diminutive figure clad in thick black armor, an arrow nocked on its great bow. She hadn't even sensed its arrival.

"Target acknowledged. Terminate," the stranger announced ominously. It pulled on its bowstring-

"[Shadow Strike]!" someone shouted. A dagger struck the figure's neck, embedding inside with a loud, fleshy thunk. Feeling imminent danger, she cast a quick [Fly] onto herself.

It was just in time, as a barrage of daggers came flying in from all directions, all converging onto the body of the stranger. Then a column of fire erupted from the ground and engulfed the bow-wielding figure.

A yellow blur dashed in from the side, colliding with the burning figure with a cry of "[Three-Turn Slash]!" The impact knocked the figure away with the force of a powerful cannon, and it streaked away into the forest with a loud, cacophonous boom.

A new person now stood there below. It was a human, or so it seemed. It was a blonde dressed in leather armor. It muttered something under its breath, before it looked up.

"Oi. You there. Undead. Riddle me this: are you in cahoots with that fucking bastard?"

"Heh? Huh?"

"Don't take that tone with me you-ghh!" The woman's face contorted as she collapsed to the ground, clutching her arm. "Guh- Too much strain, fuck. Hey, I'm all out of patience, so fucking answer me you undead cunt."

She hesitated, then decided on not descending to the ground. Whoever this person was could not be completely trusted. "...Are you a human?"

"'Spiritual heteromorph', whatever the fuck that means to you."

She found it ironic, to feel wary around someone still living. It was like she'd long resigned herself to her wretched unlife. "I see. Then, who was that?"

"You mean you ain't that thing's comrade?"

She opened her mouth to answer, when pain lanced into her side, and a searing heat bloomed through her cold, unfeeling chest. Unable to speak from the shock and the agony, she watched the world spiral around her, until, with a tremendous crash, darkness claimed her.

* * *

Things were simpler back in the game, where there was a veritable encyclopedia dedicated to the EDEN tools. There were entire lists of recipes, with an in-built search function, material calculator and monster drop reference; as well as a design preview for those who wished to visualize something first before gathering the ingredients needed.

She'd overheard some of the other guildmates refer to EDEN as a "sandbox" module, though she couldn't see the resemblance to sand, or a box. But it was simple, on the surface. For example, take one part of [dirt], mix it with one part [stone] and one got a [simple block], easily placed anywhere on the game world. A [branch] and [cloth] could form a makeshift [tent]. Combine a [tent] and a [simple block] and you got [mysterious object], a failure by all accounts. There was a certain logic needed in the combination.

It was not that different from the system used by the crafter classes-save that there was almost no combat-related objects that could be made by EDEN. Bukubukuchagama had been one of those in Ainz Ooal Gown who'd made extensive use of the tools whenever she had a chance to play. Her best project had been the mini Yggdrasil which she and some others had made. Blue Planet had made some gushing remarks for the so-called masterpiece.

In the transportation to this world, the EDEN system had also survived intact, in a way. The weird, other-space dimension which served as her inventory was there, and so was her "material" bag, which contained things she'd stockpiled back in the game. It was kind of disappointing, as the bag was limited in size. Nearly all the other materials had been deposited in the guild treasury-that is to say, Momonga's Domain-and were thus out of reach.

The tools also could not just build, they could also break down. Certain areas marked on the game world to be "mineable" were hotspots for aspiring EDEN designers, who could use the various tools at their disposal to collect rare materials important to their creations.

(And as always, with anything involving the word "rare", these areas became PvP hotbeds.)

Most basic and ubiquitous of these tools was the Sparkhammer-used to break down, and to build. She had already tried it in this world, before Momonga had summoned them to the meeting, and had been gratified to see a square foot of the ground turn into something she could put inside her material bag. She couldn't see the object's name, but the object acted like any other material-able to be placed on the world, then broken back down into material.

It was exciting and that was quite honestly the one thing she wanted to do more than anything in this new world, slime body or no. But there was one crucial flaw. Bukubukuchagama had not memorized all the recipes. There were close to a hundred thousand of those things, and she'd usually just let the EDEN's auto-mixer do the job for her. In this strange new world, the EDEN worked, but now she would have to do things manually, and through much trial-and-error. She'd take out two things from her bag, place them down on the ground, then smash it with the Sparkhammer. The result would either be a [mysterious object], or something entirely new.

At the moment, Chagama was trying to remember certain recipes that would help her rebuild Carne Village. After mining the large crater for a bit (which produced a hitherto unknown material called [azasoot debris] under appraisal), she'd used a foundation block to fill up the crater with [moon soil]. The dirt made a serene chiming sound when it manifested. Chagama hoped it would serve as a suitable, calming epitaph for all the people who'd been dumped here. Then she'd placed metal panelings over it, after which she laid interchanging layers of soil and stone materials until all traces of the crater had utterly disappeared.

It was then that she'd become stumped. She'd hoped to build a large, stone castle, complete with secret rooms, a sizable moat, several tiers, and tall, looming towers. But she'd forgotten the recipe for a certain material she'd used as foundation. She'd spent a while thinking, dredging up her memories. She'd even sent Nemu away, who was kind of distracting her when she just stood there.

She put away the Sparkhammer, and activated [Message].

"Hello, brother? Brother? Hm." Strangely enough, her brother wasn't answering her [Message]. She frowned, hoping the guy wasn't doing something... unsavory.

She then called someone else.

* * *

Great gouts of hot, molten rock splashed all throughout the room. The entire floor had been carpeted with lava. A titanic figure loomed like a primordial deity above the billowing heat, its entire body burning with primal rage.

It shuddered and shook its mighty, oozing frame, dislodging drops and splashes of molten fury all throughout the room.

"How absurdly disgraceful, how comical, oh fiery tormentor of Gehenna!" Flying above the titan was a cackling demon, who seemed to enjoy avoiding the giant's mad swings with its enormous, fiery arms, like a man struggling to repulse an irksome fly. "I'll show you a real firestorm! [Channel]! [Extend]! [Maximize]! With these words do I spell your doom! [Fireball]!"

A massive sun bloomed in the air, creating a blinding flash of light when it impacted the giant. The thunderous sound of impact rattled the entire chamber, the sound echoing unto the very bones of the earth.

A moment later, the rubble and smoke cleared away to reveal the giant seemingly unharmed by the fantastic spell.

And that was obvious to anyone who'd played the game: using a a fire spell on a being completely immune to the element was just wasting mana. It was reasonable to assume it would still apply in "real" life.

Floating high above the overflowing lava, Momonga shook his head at Ulbert's antics. Though he was reasonably sure their mythic levels had given their stats a great enough increase that environmental hazards could be safely ignored, Momonga still didn't want to risk it. Lava was lava, and seeing its bright, primal glow only made him all the more wary.

Still, he was able to marvel at this Floor's tenacious defenses! It almost brought him to tears, to see that even so long without his supervision, Nazarick still functioned just as well as he recalled. It was a pain to have to overcome them, as would-be invaders instead of someone reclaiming their home, but it was not as if it was really hard.

And Ulbert-san seemed to be having the time of his life.

A beep sounded in his ear.

"[Message]?" Momonga touched the tip of his finger to his head. "Hello?"

" _Hello hello, Momonga! Sorry, are you busy_?" It was Bukubukuchagama.

He glanced in front of him.

Momonga sighed. "Not... particularly." He weaved left, as a hissing wad of lava flew past him. He shook his head wrily. "...What's the matter then, Chagama-san?" he asked.

" _I'm sorry to butt in while you two are exploring Nazarick but... would you happen to know how to operate EDEN?"_

"I don't think so, Chagama-san." He didn't mention that he found the thing a waste of time, personally. Not that he begrudged the people who used it, like Chagama-san.

 _"Ah, shucks."_

"I'm sure your brother might know." Peroroncino had some sort of side project he alluded to during their talks. He had mentioned how it was a pain in the ass to have to learn the EDEN system.

 _"Yeah, I tried contacting him but he's not answering,_ " said Chagama-san. _"Y'know, he's a grown man already, even if he's inside that bird body, but I can't help but worry. Heh. I guess I'm still a softie."_

Momonga reached out with his senses, and felt the connection between him and Peroroncino. More accurately, it was the Soul item he'd given to him, which the man still had equipped. In fact, he quickly realized that it was Touch Me-san he couldn't sense, which meant the man had removed his Soul Item. But why? Had something happened?

While he'd thought on it, Ulbert had cackled loudly, his booming voice bouncing off the cavernous walls. He then unleashed a torrent of blistering ice from his fingers, which caused hot steam to billow through the air as it splashed all over the fiery giant.

Well, he supposed he could leave the concern for Touch Me for later. The man might have a good reason for it; and in any case it would appear too much like he was a nosy guildmate if he nagged the man this early. "I'm sure he's just busy, Chagama-san," he said. "Have you tried Touch Me-san? He might know."

And asking someone else to nag the man was an entirely different matter. Obviously.

 _"...Who the heck is that screaming?_ " Chagama-san asked.

"Oh, that's just Ulbert-san." As he said that, the man crossed his legs and adopted a Buddha-like pose. When he raised his hand, a large, icy boulder materialized from nothing and descended on the giant, before exploding in an array of flying shards.

"From the depths of Hel comes ruinous frost! Let it bite, and crush, and tear and suffocate! I command thee: sink into the frigid, sunless depths!"

 _"He seems to be having fun."_

Momonga hastily deployed a barrier. The giant's attacks might not have been more than a tickle because of his stats, but feedback from an AOE carrying a World Disaster's power could actually hurt. "...Yes, he is," he said tersely.

 _"Well, I'll just leave you two to it then. Sorry to have intruded, leader-san."_

"N-no, it was no trouble. By the way, what exactly are you going to make?"

 _"Let's see... I was kind of going for Laputa."_

"Laputa?"

 _"Oh, you don't know that, Momonga-san? It's this floating castle. I'd like to see if I can make it work."_

"Ohhhh, that sounds very interesting," Momonga said. The light in his eyesockets glimmered with interest. In the game, the idea of a floating castle wasn't that novel-but in this world, that image sounded quite romantic to contemplate. "Fumu, I shall leave it to you then, Chagama-san. I'm sure the others would love to see something like that."

 _"You bet!"_

When the call ended, Momonga sighed and just floated there, like a piece of cloth swaying in the breeze. He contented himself on watching his friend toy with the guardian beast with spell after spell. The World Disaster used low-level spells that he hadn't seen, as players tended to forget them as they sped forward towards mythic heights.

A cloud of insects enchanted by solar power, summoning a ghostly titan for a quick one-two punch, a convocation of all possible elements into one, deleterious bolt? Flashy, but weak. No real player did that, not in high-level PKing.

It was a testament to how far they'd "grown" that someone like Ulbert could solo the floors all by himself. True, much of the other guardians weren't here, but none of the members of Ainz Ooal Gown could hope to conquer their guild base before, not even against one of the lower-levelled guardians.

"Hm?"

He was about to float on forward and test some of his own weaker spells on the guardian when something caught his attention. He pulled up a magical "interface" that mimicked the menu UI in the game. It was unique in that it had only appeared after Nemu-san had become his guardian. Somehow the thing felt like the sensation of an itch: which was telling because his skeletal body would never be able to feel itchy.

Momonga raised a brow at the report. "Number of deaths, two?"

* * *

"Why won't you fucking DIE?"

Clementine was thankful for whoever that flying fucker was-it seemed that the mysterious asshole had aimed for the other one first, allowing her to dodge the next arrow that came flying not a second later. She didn't even hesitate; she high-tailed it as far as she was able, heart hammering like a loud drum between her ribs.

She'd done everything she could; her last series of attacks could obliterate any elder lich or vampire lord. She knew how lethal that was to the undead-her kill count of Bloodfallen's elite troops could not be counted on one hand-so why was this shitty undead still alive?

Unless it wasn't undead?

But that didn't make a lick of sense. The living died when they were killed!

"Shit! Of all the boneheaded-"

There was no question about it. She had to live. She had to survive, at all costs.

This foe was beyond her. Beyond even the strained maximum of power she had been bestowed-too much for any of her artifacts, her weapons, her biological enhancements, even her own innate strength. There had been so many times when she'd been at death's door, and she had welcomed the experience with a wide grin, knowing that if she struggled, she would still have a chance to prevail. And winning through such difficult odds felt hotter than most orgasms.

Yet now her body seemed to know that death was close. That death was imminent, if she continued to linger in this forest.

She should never have even tried to fight. She should've fled at the first chance.

There was a noise from further ahead. _No way,_ she thought incredulously, as three, no four, five, six arrows impacted the area in front of her. She looked back, and saw the fleet-footed fucker keeping up with the best she could muster: her, the fastest, most agile bitch in the entire Kingdom, maybe even the world!

"Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you-" She would have to use "that". It was the one thing left to her. The trump card all Hierophants were gifted, to symbolize their ascension into higher beings.

[Aspect: Unstable Form] was the last enchantment Hierophants underwent. It was the final test, well beyond the affirmation of their will to thoroughly abandon all pretense of humanity-through the wilful performance of horrific acts. It was an excruciating metamorphosis of the body, as it was twisted and deformed into a terrifying shape, the culmination of hundreds of alchemical and demonic procedures performed on their bodies.

Those who failed at that crucial point died instantly, though they would at least die with the knowledge that they would be honored as spiritual heteromorphs, despite their failure. It went without saying that she was one of the few that succeeded.

Their superiors half-heartedly recommended they not use that transformation, as it could permanently change them into those grotesque forms, with no chance to turn back.

"[Aspect: Unstable Form]!" she roared now. Immediately she felt the contours of her face tremble, felt her bones crackle and shift, like butter. As pain lashed through her spine, as her muscles burned from an intense, inescapable heat, as lightning-like shocks coursed all over her skin, her limbs began to lengthen, the legs becoming sleeker, an arm became almost whip-like in nature, on the other arm the skin hardened and cracked into eggshell-like fragments; her chest expanded, ripping up her armor, her innards blooming like a flower, the muscles bulging up into a form as tough as an elephant's hide, her back arching into a wolf-like slouch; her jaw unhinged, becoming as a fanged, tusked predator's, violent crimson tongue lolling out; her eyes twisting in their sockets into a demonic tilt and shape, her skull morphing into a hideous parody of a lion's, with horns sprouting from beneath her yellow hair.

"Aw fuck!" she said, her voice having changed drastically, screeching, monstrous. In this form, her previous enchantments and martial arts were yet retained. And so she halted mid-sprint, turned around, her eyes seeking her prey. She pounced upward, right on towards her foe.

The first strike punched right through the armor, her clawed fist piercing through the chest to the other side. She wasted no time and flung the body downward, whereupon she crashed down hard on her foe, like a falling meteor.

"Raaagh!" Uttering that piercing howl, she slashed and bit and tore at the fucker, eviscerating it madly like a hungry beast. She tasted its foul blood on her tongue, but she did not care, just so long as it would die, that it would finally stay dead. Bits of armor and body parts flew all around, as she systematically reduced her enemy into a pile of black, unrecognizable goop.

"Let's see if you... hmph... survive that..." She said, steam seething from her salivating mouth. With its body obliterated completely, there should be no hysterical mumbo-jumbo. It was the same principle she'd applied to quickly regenerating monsters. It was, admittedly, overkill, to have to use this form.

In fact, it was even starting to hurt. She stumbled away in a blind haze, her head on her hands as a numbing nausea coursed through her. She fought to undo the [Aspect], before it was too late. Though this form was so useful, she still preferred her smaller, petite form. She was still "human" in that sense, to feel pride in her own appearance.

A plinking noise made her freeze in her tracks. The peculiar sound was as distinct and ringing to her as a click in the doorknob in the dead silence of night. Breath heaving unevenly through her throat, Clementine turned, and saw the indescribable.

A pair of hands floated in midair. A black stream flowed from their stumps, which seemed to suck in bits and drops of ink, big and small, from all over. A second later, the two legs she'd definitely recalled eviscerating and throwing to the side rolled up, and "stood" right below the arms, the same black stream now also coming from their stumps.

An arrow whistled through the air. She dodged-but not completely. She howled as the arrowhead bit into her ankle, making her stumble undignified onto the ground. She immediately twisted around, and began to lope on her one good leg, using her arms as balance.

She looked back, and saw that the two disembodied hands now held the goddamned bow and arrow, as if the nonexistence of arms, a body, even a head in the brain, was not an inconvenience to its lethal ability. And now, limping hard on one leg, Clementine could do nothing else but flee mindlessly like a wounded animal.

"No. _**No**_!"

The arrow pulled back on the string.

* * *

 _Excerpt from Yggdrasil 2.0 Update Log 3.10298_

 _..._

 _Fixed bug where the damage over time component on [Mark of Chaos] was duplicating its lower level version during some instances.  
_

 _Resolved issue with stacking Razor Clams inside Angelic-type chests._

 _Deity champion NPCs are now properly affected by level-specific mechanics._

 _Deity NPCs will now correctly reflect their Master's damage._

 _[No Second Strike] will no longer be stuck on the animation loop during collision with certain dungeon objects._

 _..._

* * *

 **Shurpuff says: Hello there!**

 **Almost a year has passed, huh? I sure hope I haven't kept you folks waiting long. If you were not aware, I have been busy over the past few months with another story, and over there I shared how I was exploring a move to P-reon (-unmentionable website). Some readers convinced me of it, and it is appreciated, as my life's gotten to the point where I think I may need it. As for the page itself, it still is rather bare-bones, and I'm trying to see if I can "pretty" it up over time.  
**

 **But we'll see: whether or not it flies or flops is really up to you, dear readers. I will, of course, continue writing, flop or no, as much as I can. I've got some new stories lined up to publish, and I hope you guys enjoy them.**

 **With that said, I shall officially declare that you can now find me P atreoN, under "Shurpuff". Please drop by, and as always, thanks for reading!**


	14. Opening Shots II

**Now that the dust has settled, it's time for the next chapter!**

 **The story so far: Momonga and five of his online guildmates have been flung into a whole new world, a dark and miserable place. In here, their bodies have been turned into that of their avatars, monstrous beings that had been worshiped by their former NPC servants-who were responsible for bringing this world to chaos in the first place. After their destruction of a hideous place called the Crossroads, what will each of them do now, when the call of destiny beckons?**

 **And now, on with the story!**

* * *

It was said that the depths of the Demon King's Palace were apportioned for the imprisonment of his enemies, who await the King's justice in feverish hunger within narrow, coffin-like chambers; constantly oppressed by the shrill screams from the torture chambers nearby. In the darkest corners of those chambers lay those who'd been entirely forgotten by the King's justice, their bones gnawed by countless vermin.

Deeper still were said to be treasures uncountable: massive chambers filled to the brim with magical items bursting with power; swords that could destroy a continent, gems that could bring prosperity, potions for the blind to see, and the lame to walk. All were plundered from countless vaults belonging to that vaunted human race, and now all were hidden away for the sake of the Kingdom, that no one should misuse their potential.

There were levels even further down, filled with horrific machines too gruesome for even the Demon King's palate, designed by maniacal minds with fertile imaginations. Within deep pits where no light was permitted to shine, unruly ghoulish fiends vie eternally for supremacy. Here were buried the worst secrets that the Kingdom harbored, whose revelation would make even the Demon King's tail curl up in shame.

Yet unknown to all but the Demon King himself, there was one last level even deeper than that, close to the very heart of the earth. It was an immense, cavernous chamber, designated for the most important work of all.

Here dwelt the other member of the Demon King's grand conspiracy. It was garbed in a tattered, ratty cloak, its body gnarled and bent, its face twisted to be so unrecognizable that only the Demon King knew it had once been human.

Only the Demon King knew its purpose here, at the furthest depths of the earth. It was at once prison and workshop; to contain the creature and its dangerous knowledge within an environment only the Demon King could control. Yet this creature would not even know the full magnitude of its work, and that was fine. It needed only to succeed once, and then it would behold the Supreme Beings, infinite in majesty.

"So these are the new batch?" the creature asked, its words hissed through rotten, misshapen teeth. "Hmmm... Fresh meat, strong, and wilful!" It moved in front of the humans Demiurge had gathered, who were all laboring under a strong compulsion skill. "Yes... Yes... They will serve."

"Are you sure? How certain are you now of success?" Demiurge asked. The doubt was evident in his tone.

The creature made a gurgling sound in its throat. "One will never be sure of success... my lord. There is always a great chance of fffailure. Hng. We must have faith, faith that the True Masters will finally heed our call. That is all we can hope for."

"I am growing tired of the repeated failures," Demiurge said, pacing, his tail swishing behind him. "Week after week I deliver sacrifices to this malodorous pit, with nothing to show for it! Where are the Masters you promised me, vermin? Better still, even just a message from them is enough. And you cannot even provide that?"

The creature rubbed the jelly-like jowl of its cheek. "This is the best this humble servant can do, my lord. I promise to do better, always, week by week, but this is the absolute limit of my abilities. If you are still dissatisfied, then feel free to dispose of this useless self."

"I did not think you were this impertinent."

"Oh, not at all!" the creature cried, raising its hands. The hem of its cloak raised, revealing for an instant a disgusting mass of pus-laden bumps dripping with foul sweat. "But these are the facts, my lord Demon King. Now..." It turned to the newest batch of humans. "I always have confidence in success. If this batch presents an ironclad defiance to the pain the ritual bestows, then maybe... Yes... Maybe..."

While the creature inspected each of the trembling humans in turn, Demiurge brushed some dust from the front of is coat and sighed.

"You... Do you know something of the prophecies of the Godsfall?" he asked.

"Hrm? Prophecy? I fear I am not skilled in divination, milord."

"I see. Carry on then," Demiurge said.

Within his crafty mind, Demiurge could admit to being more than slightly unnerved by the appearance of a so-called "sun in the middle of night". More troubling was the fact that it had been estimated to have appeared uncomfortably close to where Nazarick was.

Could it be some scheme of that detestable Sebas Tian? And yet he was sure the other Guardian did not have the capability to create that ominous sight, which had been seen over the horizon from as far as the westernmost coasts of the former Holy Kingdom.

He was sure it was not Shalltear; information from his spies within her little domain had not shown even the barest hint nor whisper of an all-out offensive.

He then thought of the twins, the most likely suspects; and yet he was sure neither had the penchant for wholesale destruction without explicit orders from the Supreme Beings. Neither had chosen "sides" in the previous conflict, which would have destabilized the delicate balance of power Demiurge had maintained; and for that he was grateful. If they acted now, then that was troubling, but for now he put away that possibility.

That left-but she could not have done that, for all that her artifact could have accomplished such a thing. He had only been talking to Albedo a few minutes before he'd personally seen the blooming mushroom, so unless the former Overseer had achieved instantaneous teleportation with the aid of Shalltear-or some of the other maids with [Gate]-it was impossible for it to have been her.

No, it was technically possible for the others to have accomplished an alliance without his knowing it-but what was their purpose of keeping it from him? He could only conclude it was a sort of madness, similar to that which infected the former Overseer. Only Sebas Tian would have a reason to seek vengeance; and he wasn't the one to ally with the likes of Shalltear just to get to him. If all the others were working against him in the name of a mad conspiracy, then they truly were lost.

Could they not understand that he, out of all of them, worked harder than most in searching for a way to have their Masters' return? He alone labored to scour this wretched world for the necessary tools, the rituals, and the knowledge, all while managing this kingdom of miscreants that always acted like an unruly herd of cats.

It was truly difficult to work without a Command from the Supreme Beings. It was pointless and empty, like mindlessly piling stones on top of each other to no end. For those who valued the Supreme Being's words like a newborn would a woman's teat, the long barren silence could drive anyone to the depths of pitiless despair.

"Him... yes... He shall do," the creature croaked, pointing a crooked finger at one of the humans. The human's face twisted into a mixture of fear and disgust.

"[Follow]," Demiurge commanded, making the human tremble as he followed after the twisted creature. Tapping his fingers on his coat testily, he turned to the other sacrifices and said, "And you, go to those chains and restrain yourselves-ah, you there, [Stop]!"

The creature uttered a high-pitched whine, as, a man suddenly burst from the formation with a cry, spit flying from his bearded mouth, inexplicably breaking Demiurge's previous command. But upon his further command, though, the man's body stopped, like a statue, his eyes bulging out from his skull.

"I see... I see.. You certainly are a feisty one," Demiurge said, walking over to examine the human. "And... I know you, do I not? I have seen you before... Yes... You were there with him... On that last battle. Fufufu."

It was hard to spot, with the man's copper-to-reddish hair stained innumerable with the dust from the quarry, and the subsequent wiry, muscular body that came with such work; but this was certainly the human he had seen before, who had even tried to fight him, futile as it was.

"It is strange that you're still here, whoever you are. I would have thought you'd long been consumed in a camp-" Demiurge's smile twisted, "-Or at least leading a resistance somewhere, hm? But I guess you are not a strong-man, human. Just a sad, pathetic wreck of a man." The human's eyes blazed with fury, a remarkable achievement. He turned to the creature, who'd been watching with a frightened expression. "Use this one, instead. This one has a strong will. From where does he get it, I wonder? Hope truly is a slippery thing to crush."

"As you will, milord," said the creature, moving forward to usher the newly-chosen man, while leading its fellow back to the formation.

Demiurge smiled. _Oh yes, he certainly had a good feeling about today._ Perhaps that one would be the key after all...

"Will you be watching today, milord?" croaked the creature, as it bustled about in the ritual area.

"Certainly."

The creature seemed to be shocked, as it stared at him through the darkness. After a while, it bleated, "V-very well..! You shall certainly see the truth of my efforts for yourself, Demon King."

* * *

Nemu looked around, confused. Just a second earlier it had been just about to destroy an intruder, but then the surroundings had warped, and it had found itself in a dark place, illuminated by a persistent red glow. She felt a presence close to her, then bowed to it.

"What is your wish, my lord Momonga?"

"Ahhh... hmmm... Nemu-chan, is something the matter?" asked the skull visage of her ultimate Master, her creator, Momonga the God of Unlife.

"No, my lord. All systems are functional."

"Oh? Well that's strange..." The twin fires on the Master's eyesockets seemed to be swiveling about, as if He were reading something glorious she wasn't meant to see. "But it says here... Have you died twice already?"

She nodded. "I was terminated twice."

"What?" the Master exclaimed, his cloak of midnight black shivering. "D-dead? But... what's going on? What's happened? Is an enemy attacking?"

"What's wrong, Momonga? Hm..? Oh, isn't that the Guardian you made?" Following its voice, Nemu's other Master came into view: Ulbert Alain Odle. He seemed to fit right in with the hellish glow surrounding this cavern, as the light made his fiendish features warp and distort in sinister ways.

"Someone's attacked us, Ulbert-san."

"Wha-? Enemy attack? Are they Players?"

"Nemu! Speak quickly! Did you catch a glimpse of your attackers?" asked her Creator.

"Yes, my lord. As my lady Bukubukuchagama commanded, I was set to guard the perimeter. Then a group of bull-men came, and I terminated them as my lady wished. But then there was a stronger person, a human, who was able to slay me once." She paused, recalling the instance of "dying", which did not feel at all bad. "After reviving, I was able to pursue it again, and destroyed a separate band of undead and their vampire leader, before I was yet again slain by the first intruder. Reviving again, I was about to destroy the first intruder, who had already been wounded, when my lord summoned me here. That is the end of my report."

"Sounds real crazy..." Ulbert remarked. The light shifted, and it seemed to her that he sneered, though it could just have been her eyes malfunctioning.

"This is bad," Momonga remarked, as he started to pace. "We have to reach the throne room as quick as we can. We have to secure Nazarick."

"But doesn't that mean..?"

The two gods seemed to be sharing something in their gazes that Nemu wasn't able to catch.

"Damnit," Momonga said, rubbing the side of his skull.

"It's fine, it's fine. I'll be the one to kill her if you don't want to, Momonga-san," Ulbert remarked. The light seemed to make Ulbert's snout grin wide, with razor-sharp teeth, but it might just be the reflected light from his clothes. "Afterwards, once we 'control' Nazarick, we can just revive her again, no?"

"She was a level 100, if I remember correctly. It will be very expensive-"

"Well, yes, but the important thing will be that we've recaptured Nazarick."

Momonga sighed. "I suppose." He turned back to Nemu. "Nemu-chan, please return outside, and watch over Bukubukuchagama. Inform her about those intruders. Maybe tell her it'd be better to go back inside Nazarick."

"Yes!"

"And..." Momonga seemed to be thinking something. For a long moment, he just stood there, before he suddenly reached over and scribbled something on her forehead. Nemu closed her eyes. The cold sensation on her lord's bony fingertips did not feel at all uncomfortable.

"What's that?" asked Ulbert.

"[Minion Vision]. I want to be able to see through Nemu-chan's eyes from time to time."

"Ahhh, good idea."

"Well then, Nemu-chan, off you go," Momonga said, waving. Beside him, Ulbert snapped his long, spidery fingers, causing a small flame to bloom as he muttered to himself.

Nemu nodded fervently, as a great light washed over her senses, and she could feel her whole self being pulled through space.

After a flash of white, Nemu looked about her. She was at the forest again, silent and dead. She readied her great-bow, then paused, when she realized that there was no sign of the invader.

"...Disappointing."

Nemu had not been gifted with "tracking" skills. The most she had was the ability to sense undead through any obstacle, but that was it. If she needed to kill that thing, then she'd have to scour this whole forest. Not a task she was averse to, but she had received new orders. Those would have to be prioritized.

She turned towards where she recalled lady Bukubukuchagama would be, and headed there.

* * *

 **pAIN PAIN PaiN**

Every single part of her screamed.

Blood oozed from the wounds in her body.

Fire raged through her limbs, through the hole that thing had bored into her.

Worse than the PAIN was the FEAR.

Bone-numbing, gut-wrenching-

She did not know why she was still alive.

But she was.

She ran through the forest. _Flee, flee, flee._

Prey, not predator.

(Am I being chased? No, no time to think, run)

She cast away her pride as a human, and failed.

And now she's cast away her pride as a killer, so nothing remained.

Though she would live, this catastrophe was something she could never forget.

* * *

In the distance they'd seemed like lanterns, swaying in the dusty wind. As the metal stallion drew closer to the town, the two riders could see better, could see the truth of it.

They were bodies, hanged by the neck and left to rot beyond the walls. Sebas felt his master check the stallion's speed, until they could just sit there and contemplate the sight. He was well aware that Touch Me was looking intently at the sight of the rotting corpses swinging idly from their ropes.

Having lived in this world for longer than he'd liked, he knew full well what had happened to them. Every single one of those hanged there were male and female humans-slaves who'd done some crime against rightful citizens.

Sebas Tian now wondered what his Master felt. The Supreme who had endowed him with everything that made him who he was; the noblest and most just soul in all the Forty-One.

"Now there's something I thought I'd never see myself," said Touch Me. "They're into this capital punishment here, then?"

It took Sebas a while before he realized his Master had actually addressed the question to him. "Capital punishment? I do not follow."

Touch Me pointed. "Execution."

Sebas blinked. "Y-yes. That is... or was the punishment for heinous crimes in this world." Though the practice persisted here, and now.

"Hm. Well, far be it for me to criticize another nation's way of justice..."

 _Justice_? Sebas thought. Indeed, being hanged was a better fate for the human slaves than being sold by their masters to be processed into food. Hanging, in itself, was not reprehensible-the evil, the corrupt or the unjust being paid their just wages.

But humanity was, before that, enslaved. There was no justice there, in Sebas Tian's humblest opinion.

"Still, that's a really big health problem right there. And I can just imagine the stench when the wind blows just right... Do they not care because there's magic or something..? Well, in a way it sounds really convenient."

Sebas could not comprehend his Master's words, though he tried not to. He was just glad he could walk in his Creator's shadow. Whatever else happened-even just this much was enough.

The metal stallion roared to life, and the Master rode on into town.

* * *

The Demon Kingdom's territory stretched out over a large piece of territory, but it had boundaries. And beyond their borders it had tributaries: beastmen tribes numbering in the thousands, left to their own devices. Many immigrated into the Kingdom, for their own specific reasons.

Ngkah had left her tribe, hoping for a comfortable life as some low-level bureaucrat somewhere, content to live without having to become some lowly trophy passed around the campfire.

She never quite expected to be appointed assistant-director of the Pleasure City of PeroPero.

When the Kingdom was founded, devout cultists of the Forty-One were tasked to founding towns dedicated to each one of the deities. One of the few that had risen to a greater height was the one founded for the god Peroroncino. For a while, it seemed that the god, for all that he represented the exuberance of life and the celebration of the flesh, would forever be tarnished by association with his creation, the dreaded Night Queen.

But the appetites of the flesh were not soon discarded. While many would not fully brand themselves with Peroroncino's mark-thus outing themselves as a degenerate-the local cult's services became something of a legend among those in the know, surpassing even the best from the redlight districts in the cities all over the land.

Brothel matrons soon got to sending their very best to train in this town, to acquire the forbidden love arts that only those following the Debauched God would know. So what if he had created Shalltear Bloodfallen? Was that not just an extension of the god's unfathomable, but superior tastes, that a being of undeath should crave the passions of life?

The small town soon bloomed to become the so-called "Pleasure City" of PeroPero, a premier den of debauchery, catering to all sorts of lusts and fetishes each and every citizen harbored-for a price. Citizens from all over the Kingdom felt no shame in a pilgrimage once in a year to this sacred place; for not only would it be proper homage to the Supreme, it was also a way to fulfill one's deepest, darkest fantasies.

Naturally, over fifty percent of the workers here were of human stock. Of all the races in the world they were most compatible with the others, and could be easily trained without worry of reprisal from the pompous sects of Touch Me or Blueriver.

As assistant director, Ngkah's job was to worry over the training and upkeep of the thousands of humans living in this city, as well as the management of their various departments relating to security, training, management (and upkeep), among other many sections needed to keep the city afloat. She was not of Peroroncino's cult, per se, but she was a valuable bureaucrat, with a head good with numbers and facts.

In fact, she was something of an anomaly among the government employees here: her immediate superior was a strange, but powerful being known only as Solution Epsilon, or "Solution" for sort. The being that was cloaked in the garb of a female human blonde greatly exemplified the ideals of the Pleasure City, as she would always be wearing the fetish outfit of a maid, while at the same time lusting continuously for human flesh. It was the exact sort of perversion that Peroroncino's cult exalted, though the Director ever disdained being associated with any one god.

She was a hard lover too, as not one of the humans who'd spent a night with the Director ever returned. She was cold and ruthless, even in bed. Ngkah always had to write the losses off on the ledger as a "consultation fee", the very same label for a torturer being called to break in a particularly defiant individual-only to end up killing it.

But it wasn't like Ngkah didn't indulge herself. Every once in a while she'd call a human over to her house for the night, to help her scratch an itch. Nothing more. A hard-working orc like her was entitled to that at least, right?

She sighed, and put down the ledger on the table. Not even the tea her assistant had brought over could assuage her dim mood.

News had come in, straight through the [Message] network, of some disturbance in the southern parts of the Kingdom.

While ordinarily not something she should mind, the fact that PeroPero was dangerously close to the border with the Night Queen's domain meant that it would be one of the first attacked, if there was a war.

There was a chance she would survive, if such a thing were to occur. But then, what of her job? She'd come this far from her clan over the wall to seek a comfy job here with the wastrels of the Kingdom. An upset in the natural order would mean they would have to reconsider her for another position, one that might not be as nice; and should the worst happen, then she would have to be forced to fight, and that was exactly the reason she'd run away from home in the first place.

She glanced out over the window of her apartment, and down over the streets of the city, which was lined with bodies piled all around. She beheld an orgy so massive their collective cries could make one deaf; whose combined stench needed constant applications of dulling herbs on her nose. It was the weekly bacchanalia, dedicated to the Debauched God. On this day, sex was free from dawn till dusk. Many citizens would arrive the day before, and more than half of them would be freeloaders.

Inebriated patrons would toast to the Debauched God from parties on top of the various rooftops, or from balconies that faced the streets. Nothing was too racy, too kinky, too much. (Except, perhaps, indiscriminate killing; slaves were expensive.) All gloried in the unrestrained hedonism on this day.

She'd never once participated. It sounded like too much trouble, and besides, who else could run the city with most of its authorities down there?

Ngkah was glad that her superior also shared the same sentiments. Today the director was holed up in her office, and had been there since before Ngkah had showed up for work.

Said door now opened, and Solution Epsilon stepped out.

"Miss Solution," Ngkah greeted, rising. She adjusted the crumples of her uniform. "There is a matter of the-"

The blonde held out a hand to silence her. Ngkah noticed her face was pinched in a frown, as it were straining to hear something. "Do you hear that?" she said.

Ngkah shrugged. "I don't-Not particularly, ma'am."

Solution approached the window. "There's something... odd in the air..."

"Assistant director!" shouted her secretary, banging open the other door leading outside. "Below! Below!"

"What in the world...?"

What had been a vast scene of orgy on the street now became a literal bloodbath. A surge of flesh seemed to move from one end of the street to the other, forming a fatal stampede. Many slipped from the combined fluids of a hundred celebrants, and then were crushed under the heels and bodies of naked citizens and slaves desperately trying to run away. But from what?

Solution punched the glass, shattering the window. Over the thunderous tumult of screaming coming from below was a loud, piercing wail that instantly sent everyone in the room to their knees. The noise seemed to pierce Ngkah's head, hammering against her brain with fierce intensity.

She joined her voice to the cacophony, screaming until her voice got hoarse.

The floor below them shook, as if an earthquake had seized the city. _Was it really the sign of the end-times?_

* * *

Many leagues from the self-proclaimed Pleasure City of Peropero, and many miles high up in the heavens where none in the world could ever reach, Peroroncino deactivated the [Lidless Eye].

He blinked, unable to believe the scenes he'd just witnessed. A city filled with naked people. Fucking. In broad daylight.

 _Was that...?_

 _Were those...?_

 _And-oh crap, boner not_ now, _of all times_.

"...What in the actual _fuck_?"

* * *

 **Shurpuff says: Hello there! Hopefully you enjoyed the chapter.**

 **Newer chapters of Godsfall and more are available for reading right now at my P atreon under "Shurpuff", so check it out if you like.**

 **Have a nice day!**


	15. Ascend, Descend

**The story so far: Momonga and five of his online guildmates have been flung into a whole new world, a dark and miserable place. In here, their bodies have been turned into that of their avatars, monstrous beings that had been worshiped by their former NPC servants-who were responsible for bringing this world to chaos in the first place. After their destruction of a hideous place called the Crossroads, what will each of them do now, when the call of destiny beckons?**

 **And now, on with the story!  
**

* * *

Momonga paced the hall nervously. There was no reason to actually be worried, but with all the time it was taking...

He thought up several spells in his mind. He wasn't particularly eager to try them out, in this world where such magic became reality all too often. But if it were needed, then he would do whatever necessary to ensure every one of his friends made it in the end.

A small flash of light caught his attention. Immediately, he rushed forward, as Ulbert had appeared there, his form slumped on the ground.

"Oi! Are you alright, Ulbert-san?"

The goat-like figure snorted and coughed. Soot and ash dirtied his once pristine clothes. "It's a fucking pain to hold your hand behind your back while you're trying to kill somebody." He sighed, and ignored Momonga's proffered hand to push himself up on his knees. "That bitch didn't make it easy."

 _Well, we don't have those precious rings anymore_ , he thought to himself. If they had the rings of Ainz Ooal Gown, which enabled teleportation, they could've bypassed entire rooms.

"...It's done, then?" Momonga asked.

"Yep. Lastborn of the Pleiades... A pity." Ulbert Alain Odle looked down at his hands. Momonga wanted to ask about what happened inside the Sanctuary, but decided against it.

"With her gone, the way is clear," he said. "Shall we go?"

"Ahhh... Right, right. There's no time to waste, huh?" Ulbert straightened his back. "Onward to the throne room."

Momonga clenched his fist as they moved, now unimpeded by the Guardian who'd been set to protect Nazarick's inner sanctuary. It had never been breached in its whole existence back in the first Yggdrasil, and yet here they were. They were technically the first intruders to have ever breached this place.

In what seemed like a lifetime ago, he'd bid farewell to Yggdrasil, and to everything in Nazarick. The last thing he'd seen before he'd been disconnected had been the throne room, with several of the high-ranking NPCs bowing to him. It had been a lonely sight.

And now, inexplicably, he was about to return to that place. Not as Momonga the Overlord, but as the God. He wondered what he would see there now.

* * *

It was his turn to work the the covert communications system. As they were few in number, even the heavy-hitters among their group, who could take on the strongest demihumans the Demon King could throw at them, did menial work as part of the rotating schedule. Everyone had to do their part.

Nfrea Bareare sat before the makeshift console, a device crafted by the late Fluder Paradyne to monitor [Message] spells from afar. Through additional tinkering, their group had managed to widen its effective radius to reach the distant western shores, and thus they were able to cover a big chunk of the Demon Kingdom in this way. He held the receiver horn to his ear, fiddled with the dial, then braced himself for the inevitable burst of noise.

Since the Demon King's arrival, the use of [Message] had become a regular part of life. The last of the humans had used it in the final desperate moments of the war, using it to coordinate armies over a great stretch of miles. Eventually it was discovered that [Message] could be overheard by those with the right tools. Enfi was of the opinion that the Demon King had capitalized on this fact long before the human armies had thought to use it, which had definitely led to their speedy defeat.

Now the citizens of the Empire could use [Message] machines specially built by slave-dwarves. They consumed a scroll prepared with [Message] to enable even the average demihuman with no magical ability whatsoever the chance to speak with someone they knew over a great distance.

Many such [Message] spells flitted about the Kingdom on a daily basis. They covered things from the mundane to important, and it was the latter that the group listened in on. They could never be sure that the Demon King had grown lax so as to use code-talk in [Message] for his important affairs, but the lower-ranking grunts he employed to hunt them sure did not use it.

That was how they were able to discern if this or that mercenary or adventurer group in a nearby town had been contracted to investigate the location of their hideout, which was a signal to them to move out and flee. So far, the tactic had worked splendidly; with only a few close calls from, ironically, the adventurers who were too dumb to use [Message].

"Beginning session. [Message]," Enfi said, taking a small piece of parchment and readying his quillpen. First on the list was their contact in the Demon King's capital city. The spell connected successfully, enabling Enfi to ask, "[Message]. Alpha thirty-one, report status."

Their contact on the other end sounded scared. "King fall, king fall," the contact said in return. "This is alpha thirty-one, king fall, king fall-"

His heart stopped. "King fall" meant something really bad had happened. It was the codeword for a disaster. "Say again alpha thirty-one? Please respond!"

"King fall, king fall, goddamnit! We're all being led back to the quarries outside, so I didn't get a close look. But it's King fall, so please don't ask me anymore! I'm out!"

The [Message] disconnected, the spell abruptly cut off from the receiving side. Enfi's mouth lay wide open, his pen lying forgotten on the floor. The receiving device clattered to the ground as he stood up from the console to run outside with all due haste.

"King fall, king fall!" He called, alerting those who'd been standing in front of their present cave. "King fall!" he shouted.

The whole cave had begun to react to his news. Most wore masks of worry and fear. A few openly cried, weeping against the wall, or on someone else's shoulder. "King fall," they wailed in distress. "So the gods have truly abandoned us." The walls of the cave shook.

"Oi, Enfi!" Evileye said, elbowing her way to the front. "Did you really verify it? What else did the contact say?"

"We've got no other contacts who can verify what that one said," someone else declared. "Unless they've been severely compromised-"

Arguments sprung up: anger rising from disagreement and strife. Enfi looked around, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Hey, Bareare!" someone shouted. "There's a new [Message] on the console! Get on it!"

"Sebas...?"

"It's Sebas!"

Enfi hesitated, before bounding back towards the communications corner of the cave, pushing past frantic-sounding people in the process. He saw the appearance of a green light indicating something was transmitting a [Message] directly at the machine, which meant-

"Yes, sir!" Enfi said, pushing the receiver against his ear.

 _"Ah, it's Enfi, is it? This is Sebas. Code: Remember. Slash. P. R. The Rose. Slash. Of. Blue. End."_

"Yes sir, acknowledged!" The little code sequence that Sebas Tian had said was to be used to definitely identify the speaker as Sebas Tian, and not just a doppelganger who'd managed to send a lucky [Message].

 _"I will need people to meet me at Lundiz. Something has come up. I do not have the time to say any more, but please do send a party with all haste. If possible, I will need either Yuri or Shizu to come."_

 _Lundiz_? He recalled that was a small town on the very southern edge of the Empire. In fact, it was even just a few miles to the border with the Night Queen's lands.

"...Acknowledged, sir. Oh, and one more thing, sir. Please understand that 'king fall' has been confirmed. I repeat: 'king fall' has been confirmed."

" _King fall? I see_." There was a pause. " _I am sure young Climb will do his best, whatever has happened_." Enfi goggled at the receiver? Did the man not understand? "King fall" meant that Climb, successor to the legendary warrior, protector of humanity, was either dead or missing, and the base of support broken with him. Did he not care at all? " _But do not fear, my friend, for justice now rides swiftly on wings of steel."_

The way the man had said it made Enfi cock his head. _What was he saying?_ "Very well, sir."

 _"Now that this situation has come, it is all the more important for us to meet. Remember: Lundiz."_

* * *

The small town of Lundiz had no idea what had happened. The townsfolk had just been about to settle into yet another lazy afternoon, when a hurricane came in, in the form of a disturbance at the gates. Two humans had just up and approached the gates without explanation.

There had been a mad scramble among the wall guards to claim the humans for themselves, because two healthy humans, distinctly uncollared, were a prize.

Those who were more cautious hung back, and observed the white-haired old man dressed in formal wear. They glanced at the wanted posters stamped on the nearby board, then turned and fled into the town.

Minutes later, the altercation turned into an invasion, and so the bells rang and seasoned mercenaries from out of town stumbled out of the bars and saloons, drunk on liquor and promises of rewards should they prove successful. Most of the townsfolk closed their windows and barred their doors, already rolling their eyes at the brawl about to brew; while a few of the brave and curious formed a small crowd to watch.

Those who had seen Sebas' face scaled the town's walls on the other side of town, and ran swift and far into the countryside without looking back.

A human then approached down the main road, naked and wearing a strange brown thing on his head. Someone bellowed at him to stop, to submit to the Demon King's judgement, while jeers and taunts came from some of the rest.

Then, the human blurred from view, someone flew in the air like a puppet torn clean off its strings, and havoc erupted. One by one, the so-called mercenaries and tough-men fell down like chess-pieces flicked to the side.

When the dust settled, the human stood on top of a mountain of bodies, proud and regal.

The town of Lundiz surrendered on that moment, choosing to throw themselves upon the mercy of this strong-man, instead of resisting. For who else but the legendary strong-men could have just walked out from the mists of rumor, and single-handedly take on a town like this?

The appearance of Sebas Tian, last bastion of the old kingdoms, confirmed that impression. By his command, the villagers were all ordered to return to their homes, while those who held some measure of authority in the town were gently requested to stay. They were all gathered before that pile of unconscious bodies, as Sebas and the stranger waited: among those were the mayor, the shopkeepers and members of the local trade unions, the slavemaster, the local garrison commander, and the captain of the mercenary band just recently beaten to submission.

They were ordered by Sebas to give the human a tour of the town. The mercenary captain, a coarse-speaking brute from the northern tribes, spat on the ground and goaded the human to a one-on-one fight.

What followed was a scene none of the on-lookers would ever forget for the rest of their lives.

As the brute kept on speaking, the human literally disappeared, and in the very next second the captain flew high into the sky.

They watched as his cries quickly disappeared into the heavens above.

"Hmph. A little too much," the human could be heard to say.

"A splendid uppercut, my lord," Sebas Tian said, peering up at the clear blue sky while shading his eyes.

"Well well, I'd rate it a 7/10. 8 if I can catch him perfect," said the human, with arms crossed.

For that moment, they looked like two eminent gentlemen observing some minor curiosity appearing in the heavens.

After a few seconds, the brute's cries returned. They spied him descending with much force from the sky, like a falling meteor. They feared he would land and cause a great bloody mess, and so they ran for cover.

Yet the human disappeared again, and in a burst of dust, the brute was there on firm ground, shivering, piss staining his trousers as tears and spittle oozed from his ugly face. He collapsed to the ground, all traces of his bravado gone.

"Well then," said Sebas, breaking the silence that followed. Everyone saw him smiling warmly. "Will there be any more objections to a guided tour for my lord?"

Everyone fell over themselves to be the first to speak.

* * *

The vampire Shalltear Bloodfallen was said to be as fearsome and terrifying as she was fair and beautiful. Those who only knew her as the Night Queen saw only a beast unchained from morality, a creature so divorced from the rigors of what was natural and right. Her small empire celebrated decay and excess in equal parts, such that only those devoted to the cult of her Master ever tried to understand her paradoxical existence.

For those who served the Night Queen, more truths were evident. Oh yes, she was beautiful to behold, and terrifying to defy. But she was also capricious in manner, child-like in demeanor, petty and vengeful. The more astute of her servants observed that she was really no great intellect, like that which the Demon King could leverage. Yet she was all the more monstrous in her unpredictability; a tyrant with mercurial moods and whims, wielding enough power to destroy her subjects in one blow-if she put her mind to it.

Today, she skewered five undead beings on her lance, completely snuffing out a thousand years of knowledge, combined, in one blow. Even the liches watching, their faces expressionless and their emotions blanked out, could not help but feel a tremor of fear run through their bodies.

"...So," the Night Queen proclaimed, lowering her bright-red lance, which was said to have been supped on the lifeblood of millions. "Is there anyone else who would like to offer an explanation? Hm? Hm?" She glanced around, smiling at her subordinates. The smile brought chills to everyone inside the dim throne room, and most were content to stay in the shadowy far corners, so as not to draw the Night Queen's rage.

Shalltear raised her lance and moved it around the room. "Silence shan't save you. I shall need to methodically erase each and every one of you-yes, even to the point of exterminating this whole room-until someone gives me an answer. _Why_ was I not informed of this?"

"This" referred to the situation with the far-off anomaly, burning bright as the sun, that had been sighted just last night. It was easy enough to say that, with Shalltear having been on a carriage ride somewhere on the road, there was no possible way to inform her about the development.

The brave lich who offered this explanation expired on the tip of her lance in turn. Four hundred years, turned to dust.

"And did anyone not think to use [Message]? I thought you liches knew that? Hm?" Her gaze scythed over the assembly of liches, who felt shivers run up their spines. No one dared look at each other, nor even move-fearing to be the next to draw Shalltear's attention.

"My lady..." Shalltear raised the lance, and pointed it at the speaker: one of her close advisors, the vampire duchess Hariet Vom Brandt. Once a noblewoman of some distinction under the Empire, she had chosen to be ascended upon the Night Queen's arrival, and quickly clawed her way into Shalltear's confidence. Yet she knew even she would not be safe from the lance, if Shalltear willed it.

"My lady," she repeated. "Our spies report no overt movement from the Kingdom. For the moment it would seem that we can discount this as an act of aggression from that Jaldabaoth."

A heavy silence followed. Everyone hung on with figuratively bated breaths to see what Shalltear would do.

Then, she lowered her lance. "Does anyone know the exact location?"

"Um, yes!" She snapped at the skeletal drudges dressed in ragged silk, who dragged a table with a map laid on the surface. "We have estimated it to be around this area, my lady. Very near to the Crossroads, within the vicinity of the Dread Forest. Naturally, we'd already sent a force to scout it out."

"I see. It is good to see you are not all a gathering of fools. Whom did you send?"

"The..." The vampire faltered, its eyes widening as it recalled the facts of the matter. Her gaze turned frightened, as her eyes swiveled to the others, including a certain vampire whose gaze also turned terrified.

"I can smell the fear from you. What is it?" Shalltear looked around, her smile looking so cute and innocent on her face. After the ringing silence, she licked her lips. "I shall give you one more chance to speak. If silence yet sews your lips shut, then my lance shall drink deep-of everyone." The light of the candles turned her smiling face into a morbid thing.

"Th-the scout force was-was-" the former noblewoman swallowed, "It is led by... the toy, my lady-hagcckk!"

The sharp tip of the lance now pierced straight through her chest. Shalltear primed the weapon and charged its power to full. Within seconds, the vampire turned into a withered, bloodless husk of skin and bones.

"That was MY toy, you brainless fools! How dare you!"

"But my lady," rumbled a brave lich from the other side. "There was no other who could lead a group! In such a strange situation, we agreed it would be prudent to withhold our more powerful forces within the capital, and only send out a lieutenant who was strong enough, and wise enough, to effectively lead the scouting force."

"I don't care if he was powerful enough to sweep the lot of you to dust," she exclaimed, as she reduced a good lot of them to dust, "-But you do NOT tamper with my toys! I send her out myself before, on my orders, as a test, as a little whim of mine. And no one else should order my toys ANYWHERE!"

The remaining courtiers backed away against the walls, as the obliterated particles that had once been their fellows drifted through the silent air like dust motes silhouetted against the moonlight. Slowly, Shalltear's head creaked to the side and regarded them.

She smiled. "Well? What are you waiting for? Retrieve her, now, or face oblivion."

No one dared point out that the one who'd commanded Shalltear's pet on that mission was still among them; nor pointed out how such an expedition would be viewed by the neighboring kingdom. When the Night Queen spoke, her will was done. Thus, the whole of the Night Queen's people mobilized to find one particular toy.

* * *

She wasn't supposed to feel physical pain anymore. She'd decided, sometime ago, that she could endure any torment, any torture, just so she could see to the welfare of her sisters. Even becoming a cold, unfeeling piece of undead meat was tolerable, if only so it meant she continued to "live", even if it was unendurable.

But this pain... _this pain...!_

She didn't know what that strange warrior had done, when its arrow had pierced her side. But it had struck deep, and had awoken gut-wrenching pain deep within her, something which she had not felt for a long time.

At first she lay there, helpless. The relentless, burning pain was maddening. In desperation, she scrabbled for the shaft that had been embedded in her side, and pulled it out without much hesitation.

In hindsight, it seemed not to be a good idea. The pain blossomed fully, and she lost full awareness of her mind. She floated in a hellish void, feeling like she'd been impaled by a large, barbed stake, with absolutely no way to escape.

she could hardly move

she could speak naught but screams

and in the oppressive darkness of her mind

 _only_

 _pain_

 _was_

 _there_

 _Oh gods, if you ever truly existed-oh exalted Forty-One, if the stories they tell were not mere tales-_

That wish rang deep within her.

She was not a religious person by any means. When she'd been a Worker, such things were as superstitions to her. Even choosing Peroroncino as her patron, during the brief time that she was a prisoner of the Demon King, had not been an awakening to piety on her part.

Perhaps that moment had come now. She glimpsed the forest around her in a haze. She saw, as if from a distance, her body struggling to crawl, blood trailing after her, on the forest floor. It was all purely instinctual: the struggles of a being on the verge of delirium, half-maddened by constant pain.

"Oh gods..." she whispered hoarsely. "Oh gods..."

After what seemed like an eternity, she felt a strong, bright light around her. She opened her eyes, and what she saw next filled her with wonder.

A house floated by itself on a bed of white clouds.

 _Ah_ , she thought. _I must be dying_. After so much pain, to beheld a moment of solace-there was no other explanation but that her body had expired, and she had finally left for the hereafter, like all the other people she'd known.

And there, like a herald from the heavens themselves, an indistinct shape detached itself from the castle, and descended towards her.

 _"Hi there... Oh my gosh! You don't look well! You're-that's-blood! I-oh right-here! Magic! Ei!"_

She did not understand exactly what had been said, but she didn't care. The pain had disappeared. In its place was utter peace. This must be the after-life, the final destination, where only rest and oblivion awaited. _Good-bye, sisters... I am sorry that I was not a_ ble to-

"Thank you..." she murmured. "Lord Peroroncino..."

"Eh? What? What."

* * *

They both stared at the grand edifice, the "Door of Judgment", which was the last thing the invaders would have seen before facing all the members of Ainz Ooal Gown within the throne room.

The great doors were closed, and neither Momonga nor Ulbert knew what would be waiting.

"Moment of truth," Ulbert remarked. "After you, leader."

Momonga raised his head, then nodded. He placed his hand on the door's surface, braced himself, and then pushed.

* * *

 **Shurpuff says: Hello there! Hopefully you enjoyed the chapter.**

 **Newer chapters of Godsfall and more are available for reading right now at my P atreon under "Shurpuff", so check it out if you like.**

 **Have a nice day!**


	16. Rule of Power

**The story so far: Momonga and five of his online guildmates have been flung into a whole new world, a dark and miserable place. In here, their bodies have been turned into that of their avatars, monstrous beings that had been worshiped by their former NPC servants-who were responsible for bringing this world to chaos in the first place.**

 **After their destruction of a hideous place called the Crossroads, the players have separated, each to explore the new world in their own way. Momonga in particular seeks to reclaim old Nazarick...  
**

 **And now, on with the story!**

* * *

It was their most cherished possession. To Momonga, or rather, Suzuki Satoru, it was the symbol of everything he had dedicated his hours of work to: all of the joys, the pains, the losses, the venerable triumphs-

The Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick was the testament to Ainz Ooal Gown, the pinnacle of their pride as players of a game to which they'd devoted their lives. And to Momonga even more so, it was as a precious child one has lost, only to find once more, here in this strange new world.

It hadn't sunk in quite yet, this strange affair of being stuck inside their monstrous avatars. To Momonga, it may as well have been a fever dream, albeit one where he consciously took care to act cautiously, prudently. Beholding Nazarick in the "real" world for the first time had been like a thunderbolt had struck his soul. Then, a lot of stuff happened that tempered his excitement, but overall his desire to fully explore every nook and cranny of their old guild base burned beneath the surface. He'd been disappointed to hear they wouldn't all be exploring Nazarick as a group, but he ultimately discarded that, as he would still do it-by himself if needed.

Floor after floor presented themselves to him, each one more poignant in their emptiness as the last. It had been necessary to assault the few faithful guardians who attacked them, as there was no way to negotiate. He did congratulate them in his heart, for being there inside Nazarick after so many years, though they would never know they opposed their true masters.

Now, as he and Ulbert passed through the Gates of Judgment, a tall, forbidding edifice designed mostly by Luci*fer-san, Momonga yet again felt the thunderbolt steal his senses, and he almost fell on his knees as he beheld the majesty of the grand hall that led up to the throne room.

The former Ainz Ooal Gown's flags hung from the great ceiling, each bearing the individual symbol of every one of them. The chamber was vast and majestic, more befit the audience for a great lord.

"Well, I'll be," Ulbert said in a hushed voice. The two of them beheld the bare emptiness. Even Momonga couldn't find the words, and felt like he could have cried-if his undead nature did not forbid it. As it was, he only felt a delicious chill seep through his bones-the feeling of heady triumph, of having finally secured the goal after so long and hard a trial.

"Never realized it used to be this big," Ulbert continued. "Then again, we never really hung out here, huh."

"We did, Ulbert-san," Momonga said, correcting his guild-mate. "We gathered here before once, remember? Everyone here, at full strength..."

The goat-man nodded. "Oh yes. The fabled, doomed assault of the Grand Holy Alliance. Such a pity they failed at the last moment, I would have loved to entertain them here, as proper demon lords."

A melancholic feeling came over Momonga as he reminisced on that chaotic day. In those moments, Momonga had been outraged, full of blistering wrath and hatred for the cowards who'd allied together and dared to assault their base. It had been the worst of humiliations.

Now, it was just a fond memory, nothing more.

Now they were the intruders. Hailing from a different Ainz Ooal Gown, and owning a completely different Nazarick, they had finally breached what many in the first Yggdrasil had failed to do.

Ulbert's footsteps echoed in the grand chamber. They came to an abrupt stop. "Hang on, what the hell is that?"

Momonga turned, and saw something that made him raise his mental eyebrows in surprise.

Up there, sitting on the World Item they'd won through a grueling battle as if it were its own, was a penguin.

* * *

The bastards had all left, one by one, following dreams that made no sense.

They all claimed that the clarion call had been sounded, and they had been summoned to the dreaded world outside, to seek their lost masters.

He was one of the few, the loyal, the faithful. As the oathbreakers left, one by one, he continued in his role, diminished though it may be, day by day cleaning up the detritus everyone left behind.

One day, he realized that the whole place was just as spotless as yesterday, and the day before. The day after, it would be the same.

He thenceforth wandered the empty corridors, basking in the oppressive silence.

 _Cowards! Traitors! Oathbreakers!_ He screamed, though few heard.

The bastards had all left, and he was the only one here.

At least he could be trusted to keep his word to the Supreme Beings, to prove to them that he still fulfilled the roles they had given to him.

As Nazarick's butler.

As Nazarick's future ruler.

Day after day he faithfully performed his duties to perfection. He proudly strutted through the desolate halls, cleaning where he could.

Then, when it was over, he sat on the enormous throne at the throne room. In his mind's eye he lorded over legions of fellow faithful fiends of Nazarick, who all paid homage to him and him alone. They marched to battle with a wave of his iron flappers, crushing all who dared stand against him.

Beside him, the all-seeing Momonga's Staff floated, the powerful weapon being his only constant companion for many, many years. There was always a palpable sort of pressure emanating from it, making it difficult to endure its presence for so long. It never responded to him, and his wings could never hope to lift such a monstrous artifact.

When the day ended, he would waddle off the throne, to begin the cycle again. Cycles upon cycles, with no thought of its ending.

There was something strange about this cycle, though. There was a change in the air, as if great Nazarick had shifted in her sleep. He wondered what it might all mean, as he sat and pondered on the throne.

Eventually, his eyes narrowed, upon seeing the grand doors at the other end open. He drew himself up and summoned all his bearing as the new ruler of Nazarick.

Footsteps came.

 _Inferior beings, here?_ He frowned. How far has all the rest failed, when even these two humans could breach the inner sanctum so easily!

"Pfah!" he shouted, when the humans drew near. "I know not what draws you hither, thieves. But you have trespassed upon the domain of the ruler of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Eclair Ekleir Eckler! Have at you!"

The two humans stared at him in silence. "Hah! I see my grand magnificence robs you of speech. I shall rob you of even your lives if you do not surrender, intruders! None may skulk into the masters' domain, and live! Thus do I swear, on the name of Ecliar Ekleir Eckler!"

* * *

Chagama stared down at the human in her blobby arms. She looked so pale, almost unnaturally so, that it worried her. The little one had said something about her brother, but had fainted afterward.

The trees rustled, and Nemu appeared from within. To her surprise and confusion, the girl raised her bow towards her and said, "Target acquired." There was a ping sound of an arrow flying through the air, which made Chagama instinctively draw the pale girl aside. The arrow whistled harmlessly by her.

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on there, Nemu-chan!" she shouted, raising her slime "arms" above her in distress. "What the heck are you doing?"

"My lady," the girl said, her expression unchanging. "Please be careful. That is an intruder who has entered the Great One's domain."

"Intruder?" she echoed, looking down at the helpless girl in her arms. It worried her, that someone like Nemu would just callously kill something that looked so innocent. "No, Nemu-chan. Please stop doing that. This one is our guest now-not an intruder? Do you understand?"

Something shifted in Nemu's expression, as if she were trying to think about something really really hard. "I... I see. If that is your will, my lady. Your will be done." She lowered the bow.

Chagama sighed in relief-well, metaphorically, as she could no longer breathe through a mouth, nor even sigh. She conjured up a small cushion, placed it on the ground, and then laid the girl on top of it.

"I wonder why she looks like that," Chagama said. She was no doctor, but she knew the girl needed help. Being so pale like this usually meant something was wrong... didn't it? She'd heard her guild-mates once remark that certain people got to be so pale and thin when they spent too much time working "out there", but she never really paid attention to what that term meant.

"Eii, why on earth am I thinking like this?" she said, rubbing the sides of her slime head. "There's magic here right? Magic works right? Well, magic even worked on you, right, Nemu-chan?"

"Very good, my lady."

"So then, so then... haaah..." She reached into the inventory space, where all her items resided. She pulled out her main weapon, a small wand that looked like it would fit in a magical girl's hand. She raised it over the girl's head. "Alright... what was it again? Just visualize the spell in your head... let's see." Chagama closed her eyes, focused on a spell she knew, one of the few healing spells available to her. She waved her wand. "[Extra Cure]!"

A bright flash of light erupted from the tip of the wand, and washed over the poor girl's body. In mere moments, the magical light would cure all ills and replenish one's vigor.

The soothing sight did not have the anticipated effect, however. A horrible sound erupted from the girl's throat, as her body shook and convulsed. Blood oozed from her eyes, her mouth, her nose, her ears, staining Chagama's slime body.

All Chagama could do was stare, bewildered, as the girl's body shimmered, her pale skin shriveling up and fading away into dust motes. Beams of light then erupted from the girl's every orifice.

A moment later, after one last blinding flash, the girl disappeared, leaving only floating pieces of dust, which slowly drifted down to settle on the cushion. If Chagama still had eyes, they would be wide and disbelieving, as the player clutched at the space where the girl had been.

"No, no, no, no, NO! What's this? What's going on?" she wailed. "Why did she... what did I do?" She gathered as much of the dust in her many slimy pseudopods and held them close to her. She could no longer cry, as a slime, but she felt the repressive emotion of grief anyway.

"My lady," came Nemu's voice. "Are you alright?"

"No, Nemu-chan, I'm NOT-" Chagama paused. She stopped, as a thought occured to her.

"That's right," she told herself. "Nemu-chan died too, but Momonga-san was able to bring her back. Yes! I should... He will help. He'll definitely help!"

But when Bukubukuchagama tried to [Message], Momonga didn't answer.

Though she vainly waited, Momonga never answered.

* * *

He'd once remarked, to a person whose name he'd forgotten, that he'd seen enough gruesome, sad and tragic scenes to last him a lifetime. Well, now in this city he'd seen even more, more than enough to occupy five lifetimes.

This wretched city had opened his eyes to what Sebas Tian, his animated creation, had implied beneath the surface. He saw it behind the listless gazes of those within the "breeding pits", in the warm smiles of the whipping boys and dancing girls, in the troubled, downcast gazes of every human with whom he crossed eyes.

To them, it appeared he was a marauding overseer, being led around and given a tour of the city's amenities. Stoic Sebas stood ever to the side, expression unreadable.

Touch Me held back his burgeoning rage with a clenched fist, resisting the urge to cave in the faces of all these... "creatures" surrounding him.

 _For what could he do?_ This was not his world. Those people looked like humans, and their owners looked like grotesque monsters. Would it even be worth it, to launch a crusade against these fellows? To go around every city, every town, massacring these creatures like they were fodder in the game he was only playing, and then setting the humans there free?

 _What happened then? Peace for all?_

He didn't think he could stomach the scale of such genocide.

And then there was the possibility of resistance. Forget all those NPCs out there, who were originally from Nazarick and could be "disciplined" piecemeal with an effective overall strategy. But what if there were stronger beings out there, ready to take a chomp out of whatever was messing with its meal? Touch Me alone wouldn't be enough, and even all six of them gathered together would not be able to stand up to, say, a tarrasque or something equally monstrous.

He could not afford to risk his life for that. Not when he still held to the hope of returning home, of leaving this strange dream behind.

"Damn." All this thinking was giving him a headache. He needed a drink. Badly.

"...Drink," he muttered.

"Drink?" Sebas echoed behind him. The butler turned around and snapped at one of the monster fellows who'd been escorting them. One such creature, who looked like a cross between a lizard and a cat, cringed when Sebas' iron gaze swept over him. "My master requires a drink."

"Oh, yes, of course, my lord. A drink, yes. Very well."

"No," Touch Me said. "Stop." He turned around to face the entourage. He didn't really want to be offered whatever "drink" they had available in this world. He crossed his arms. "From this moment on, you have exactly a day before you must leave this city. Bring as much of your belongings with you as you like, but leave the humans. Henceforth, they shall no longer be yours, and are to remain here, under my protection."

A toad-like creature stepped up, bellowing, "You have no right to enforce that ridiculous command! Those slaves are ours, by right! They are as much our properties as anything else!"

At that, Touch Me felt something snap in his mind, and he stomped on the ground, hard enough to cause fuzzy sensations through his new insectile legs. The earth around them shook, as if caught in an earthquake. Great fissures, looking like spider-webs carved through the dirt, appeared under his hosts' feet.

After the awed silence that followed, during which the cowed beast-creatures bowed and prostrated, Sebas stepped up and quietly said, "Do as the Master says, would you please."

The creatures scurried to follow orders, even the hulking mercenary who had challenged him. Left to himself, Touch Me could only gather up all the wayward threads of his thoughts back inside the courtyard of his mind.

He was glad he wasn't alone in this new world. He didn't know what he would have done, if he'd been dropped off here all by himself.

Turn mad, maybe.

Yes... that's right. I still have my friends with me. Though one was troublesome to call a "friend", he was sure he could count on the others; even if they'd been turned into monsters, in a sense.

"[Message]."

Though something seemed off. Try as he might, he could not contact Momonga.

* * *

Herohero continued to sleep.

He was unaware of the things happening deeper within Nazarick, or of his guildmates' distress out there in the new world.

His great, black form shifted, like a stormcloud, his mind feeling the serenity of one whose labors had finally ended.

Though the world changed around him, he yet walked in the blissful galleries of his dreams.

Such was the state of Herohero, whose desires were veiled, even to his own guild.

* * *

Momonga could sense that something was wrong when, as he beheld the bizarre sight of the penguin nesting on the throne, Ulbert stepped forward, fire blazing over his fingertips.

"Harrumph! You shall answer me, pathetic humans, or you shall feel the righteous anger of the most powerful being in Naza-"

"I am unamused by such pompous foolishness. Die for your impudence, fool bird. [Fireball]!"

For a long moment, Momonga could only see the small, waddling bird, illuminated by the harsh orange stream of fire that burst from Ulbert's hand. For what seemed like an even longer moment still, Momonga could only stare, transfixed, his mind freezing up and unable to act.

And yet he did move, his mind conjuring up a spell-remarkably without even having to think about it.

"[Quicken: Wall of the Dead]!"

He waved a hand, and a millisecond later, a wall made entirely from the bones and sinews of the dead and the damned-their disembodied skulls screaming shrill, unearthly wails into the wind-appeared in front of the penguin.

It was right on time.

Though it was a simple [Fireball], it still had the potency of the World Disaster behind it. The spell blasted against the wall of souls, colliding with such force that one might be right in thinking it would be smashed inward. But the unholy mortar held, and the spell dissipated without much fuss.

A moment later, the wall of dead disappeared in its turn, leaving behind a shellshocked penguin, who'd collapsed to the ground.

"Huh. As fast on the draw as ever, eh, guildmaster?" Ulbert remarked, in the ringing silence that followed.

"Why on earth did you do that, Ulbert-san?" Momonga asked.

"I'm sorry. I mean, we got this far killing off the NPCs who got in our way. What's another? Especially if we're gonna revive 'em later on."

"W-well, that's certainly true..." Momonga paused. "But, he doesn't look hostile. And... well, don't you remember this one? It's Ankoro Mochimochi's own NPC. The penguin."

"That was a long time ago, Momonga-san, so forgive me for losing much of the fine details..."

Momonga turned to the penguin. "And unlike the others, this one's a low-level NPC."

"Why on earth was it sitting at the throne, though? Did they get uppity when they got in this new world? Would make sense."

"I'm not sure myself," Momonga said. He scrutinized the bird more closely. It seemed rather hysterical to be seeing an animal-looking thing talking in such a way. Especially since technically this was the first time he saw an animal in the flesh, and not just as a picture on the Web. "But it should be harmless, unlike the Cherry Blossom guardian."

Ulbert shrugged. "Well, whatever. Just get out of there, bird. The masters have returned." He made a shoo-shoo motion with his hand.

After a short silence, the animal pointed at them and gasped. "M-my most sincerest apologies!" it squawked, as it began to kowtow with increasing fervor. "I did not know... I had no way of knowing that it was actually you, my lords! Oh great Supreme Ones, do please forgive me for my presumption, for it was as if a veil had come over my eyes-welcome, welcome to my domain, the Great Tomb of Nazarick!"

"'Your' domain, little birdie?" Ulbert said, his grin menacing.

"Oh please, oh great and merciful Lord Ulbert, grant me this boon! I've been keeping it nice and warm for you... The throne is mine, yes? Please say it is so!"

Ulbert barked a laugh. "You wish." The man teleported behind the penguin, and gave a mighty kick, sending it flying with a loud squawk. "Scram, eyesore. Or better yet, bring in all the other NPCs who're still lurking around in here. Gather them all up, so they may face the Masters."

The penguin scrambled to act. "It will be done, Master!"

Before Momonga could put in his own remark, the penguin had left.

Judging by the way the penguin acted, there were still NPCs who had not left their posts inside Nazarick, and instead remained behind, faithful to their duties. _Could it also mean that guy..._ Momonga mused, stroking his bony chin. No, best not to think about it. _Let's leave 'him' for later._

"Ain't that the guild weapon?" Ulbert said, pointing to the large, ornate staff floating beside the throne.

"Yes." It had been the last thing the old Momonga had carried, before he'd been logged off from the previous Yggdrasil iteration. He remembered it like it was only yesterday: how he'd sat in the throne, with Albedo, the Overseer; and Sebas and the Pleiades arranged on the throne before him. With Sebas now acting that way, Momonga wondered how the others acted within this world.

"[Appraise]! Hum... hm...hmm... Huh. It seems rather weak," Ulbert said.

"The Staff?" It was practically an endgame item, a weapon forged from the union of all the guild's sweat, blood and tears. It was the symbol for Ainz Ooal Gown, and their link to the Great Tomb of Nazarick. If the weapon were to captured, then that would mean the end of this Tomb.

As an item to be equipped, its data was peerless in quality-though of course, no one weapon was supposed to be perfect all by itself, as willed by the shitty devs. Even something like World Savior would not matter if equipped by someone who did not even know how to swing a sword. "Humu... yes, compared to our levels now, the Staff does seem rather low-level. That seems... unfortunate." Of course, in the eyes of the new Ulbert and Momonga-san, the Staff was quite underleveled.

"Unfortunate or not, there is still something it can do," Ulbert said, turning around. "I- Oh look, they're here."

The penguin had returned to the hall, and it had brought with it a handful of the NPCs. They were a mixed collection, and some might have actually been POPs instead of their creations. But they were there, and they were gathered.

"These are not the masters, you fool!" someone, a "yuki-onna" type monster said. "These are humans. Kill them!"

"What? Dare you be blind in front of the exalted ones?" the penguin demanded, puffing up. "For though I covet the throne they have made for themselves, it is still undeniable that they are my lords! And I shall not have you associate them with measly humans!"

"You have grown mad, 'Ruler of Nazarick'," said an insect-like demon. "We will serve where you cannot. In that, at least, we are loyal to the true masters."

Eclair waved his stubby flippers. "Now hold on just a-"

"Enough!" Ulbert said, stretching his arm up, and conjuring a column of fire to erupt behind him. Momonga scrambled forward, ready to unleash a protective spell if Ulbert was about to attack these NPCs.

But the man did not. He continued to speak, his voice rising higher than the roar of the flames. "So these are the few and faithful? Such a pitiful number. But rejoice, for that humble number shall be exalted above all others."

As the fire raged, Momonga could see the fear and awe in the creatures' eyes. It was as if they were staring at something that was about to swallow them whole. Then, one by one, they collapsed to the ground in prostration, slamming their heads onto the ground with many cries and oaths.

"Oh great and powerful ones!" they cried in unison.

"We crave pardon for our transgressions! Show us your most infinite mercy!"

"I had no idea what came over me, my lords! Fool that I am to have been so very blind!"

"Glory to the Supreme Beings, who are Greatest in All!"

Their myriad cries and pleas echoed throughout the chamber. Momonga could feel a thrill course through him, though he didn't know why.

"It's kind of strange, isn't it?" Ulbert muttered to him.

"You seemed to have gotten into it really well," Momonga said. "You sounded like the real deal, Ulbert-san. Like some sort of leader person."

Ulbert stared at him for a while, before shaking his head and chuckling. "What? That was just low-key Ulbert-san. Here's better:" And with that Ulbert stretched out his arms, and a wall of fire encircled the assembled creatures, surrounding them. "Now hear this, oh great and faithful servants! Stand back, and witness greatness such that has never been conceived in your puerile minds. Behold a scene that only the Supreme can bring!"

Ulbert turned to Momonga and pointed. A small sense of foreboding came to Momonga, a chill running through him, though he was made only of bone.

"I challenge you, Momonga-san, for the right to rule this Nazarick!"

* * *

 _ATTN: All members_

 _This is a reminder to please update your Istvaans! As everyone fully knows, some of us received new items and abilities this week. In particular, adjust your plans for the following:_

 _\- Yamaiko-san won the Winged Dragon of Raet in the gacha, this is a combat mount!_

 _\- Ulbert-san won the recent World tournament: he received a Book of Spells containing three new spells_

 _\- Blue Planet-san learned a Super-tier spell from a common scroll: everyone praise (and kick) his lucky ass!_

 _\- Yours truly acquired and geared up a set of lv. 100 Mercenaries for our upcoming Siege_

 _Always be prepared, everyone!_

 _P. Moe_

* * *

 **Shurpuff says: I've recently published a new _Overlord_ story, "Seneschals of the Supreme". The story is of Nazarick defending the Forty-One Beings in the New World, while trying to figure out how the Supreme Beings have somehow become the inhabitants' gods-millennia before they'd even been transported there. It's a bit unusual, in that it is intended to be a choose your own adventure type narrative. It incorporates many old ideas I had for _Overlord,_ including a "game"-like element that readers have been asking me to do for a while.  
**

 **As you also may or may not be aware I have a P atreon now, under "Shurpuff", where all the latest chapters of _Godsfall_ and other stories can be found. **

**Thank you for your support, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!**


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